


Stay Cool

by Ziven



Series: Be Cool Universe [3]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Badass!Yami, M/M, Multi, Persevereshipping, Post-Canon, Puzzleshipping, Respectshipping - Freeform, The Pharaoh walks among us, mnemoshipping, older!Mokuba
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-09-14
Updated: 2010-11-17
Packaged: 2019-09-16 02:22:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 23,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16945164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ziven/pseuds/Ziven
Summary: [Post canon, M/M, Lemony, Various Pairings] Sequel to "Be Cool"; also a collection of drabbles. Yami has quite a few demons in his closet, and no intent to face them. A new relationship can only distract him for so long; when they start to overwhelm him, he'll have a choice to make.





	1. Moan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was slightly impressive - in a dickish sort of way.

_"Oh, fuck-shit-shit-shit!"_

Eyes snapped open with a start—

Mokuba was still in KaibaCorp's conference room. And  _yes_ , the cheesy film on workplace etiquette was still playing on the screen thirty feet in front of him. Seto nor his supervisor were anywhere to be seen. He sighed in relief, shifting a bit uncomfortably. 

Just a few hours ago that voice had been in his ear. Now it was replaying in his head. Yami particularly _did not give a flying fuck_  who was listening, regardless of position. Not even his brother, apparently. It was slightly impressive - in a dickish sort of way.

...sadly, Seto didn't agree. And he wanted to discuss it. After orientation was over—over dinner.  _Ugh_.

He would much rather have Yami spend the night again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 12/10/18 - I definitely changed around some stuff but the idea is the same tbh.
> 
> 6/30/12 - I've decided to add the summaries to the top of the chapters as I edit them, so that there's a similar experience to Livejournal with the cuts. I like the snippets I've chosen to be the headers, and I hope that new potential readers will be intrigued by them.
> 
> This piece takes place directly after the ending of "Be Cool". It's just a snippet of Mokuba thinking about Yami after spending that night-and morning-together. I finally got the balls together to decide to post it up here. XD
> 
> I was inspired by the smut_69 table of prompts on Live Journal. I'm not posting every single one, because my theme is just Mokuba in general, and not all of the fanfics are going to be featuring this particular pairing. The ones that do, though, will be updated here :3
> 
> FYI: Moan is prompt #1.


	2. Phone Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yami hated phones. His was for emergencies only.

Yami hated phones. His was for emergencies only. He ate his own words today, though.

He'd been alone for the last ten minutes, phone in hand as Mokuba teased him with a vivid description of what could be.

He wanted to actuallydo it. He  _wanted_  Mokuba to chain him to a bed, torture him with a slow thrust, teeth grazing along his skin enough to make him tremble. He wanted to put in his place; Yami was in that kind of mood today - he would yield.

"Where _are_  you right now?" Yami asked, "Wherever it is, leave it, stop it - whatever. Name your place. I'll meet you."

Mokuba paused then, and Yami was sure he heard a chuckle in the undertone of the voice that responded. "I can't... I'm at work. You're so easy, Yami."

Yami took a deep breath, and the hand in his trousers faltered. "Fuck you," he said without missing a single beat, and hung up the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 6/30/12 - adding snippets at the top for a summary.
> 
> FYI - this prompt was #57.


	3. Cuddle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a bad price to pay for reality.

Their relationship was give and take. When Mokuba had fucked him hard, done all the things that Yami wanted (hit him and bit him and made him feel small; called him out of his name and catered to whatever fucking kinks this masochist felt necessary) there were rarely any objections when afterward, as they lay, Mokuba curled around him.

The cuddling wasn't necessarily a habit; Mokuba could go without it, if he wanted - but he didn't want to. Yami was familiar, concrete. There was something about the rhythm of another person's breathing that was always soothing to him. It was a way to pass time until it became sleep. He would count how many seconds each inhale and exhale took to complete, and compare both sleeping and awake.

The cost was fairly cheap. Yami would make a derogatory comment - he was a bitch, a pussy, an easy slut (where did he learn those words, even?) - and then it was over, and he slept. Never had Yami said, "No."

Not a bad price to pay for reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 6/30/12 - just a few grammar tweaks.
> 
> FYI: This is prompt #33.


	4. Strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You don't even know who he is."

After two weeks of stalling and excuses, Mokuba finally worked up the courage to go see his brother. In true Kaiba fashion, they went out to dinner.

He assumed that Yami would be one on a long list of things that Seto was going to give him personal commentary on. In all honesty, Mokuba had done his best to avoid this: sending forms through interns, not answering his office phone and forcing messages delivery through secretaries - whatever it took. Having someone disparage his character and point out his cowardice was not something he was looking forward to. Even though this had been his idea.

They didn't speak to each other while they considered and ordered. Really, Seto didn't acknowledge him at all. For all that Mokuba could tell, his brother was dining alone after a long day at work. Even after their food arrived the silence continued. It persisted for nearly an hour, which would've been fine if he didn't know Seto well enough; the man was waiting for a vulnerable opening. Mokuba knew he wasn't hard to read, so it was probably clear that he was on edge. But that wasn't enough to rush the conversation. Seto only spoke when he was ready. No conversation with Seto ever happened where he wasn't in control.

Mokuba had anticipated this conversation the entire week, however; being nervous didn't mean he was without a plan.

The appropriate time, apparently, was after Mokuba had received his dish and the two of them had tasted a few bites.

"You don't even know who he is." Seto's icy tone was more than enough to make Mokuba stop what he was doing and paying attention; that was habit. 

Seto chewed for a moment and swallowed before speaking again. "Is he the reason why you've been avoiding coming to the mansion?"

 _He only took four seconds to swallow that. Did he even chew that properly? He's going to choke himself._ And the conversation was already headed south.

Since his return, Mokuba found himself hardly able able to do things alone. Seto kept track of him constantly, through messages and calls or in person when possible. Being seen as 'just as kid' after having gone to school overseas was insulting. And more importantly, it was stifling. Getting by the last several years without his brother made Mokuba feel like he was being forced into a cage.

"Mokuba, are you listening?"

Maybe he wasn't an equal, but Mokuba knew, without doubt, that he was certainly more than the boy he'd been when he left. There were parts of New York that were big and scary, and parts of growing up that were scarier; but as the years went by Seto neatly avoided discussing  _those_  things. The truth of it was, there were certain things they couldn't really talk about. And anything even remotely close to what was happening with Yami was on that list.

For Seto to try to police the way that Mokuba lived his life, at this point? He couldn't allow that.

"...so you're just going to stare at me and ignore what I'm saying?"

"You're going about this the wrong way," Mokuba pointed out. He stopped hair behind his ears. 

His brother looked indignant. "Oh? Really?"

"Yes. I've been gone for a long time, Seto. I'm just going to be frank—I don't think you know me anymore. And I don't like the distance any more than you do, but this is frustrating as hell. I think that instead of lecturing me on all the things that have changed about me, and how you don't like them, maybe you should just ask me if there's anything important about me you should know."

It seemed like the only thing Seto was interested in was governing his behavior, not actually being useful or even protective. There had been no questions about his experiences overseas; no sign, really, that Seto was even aware that he'd been gone in the first place. He was just being punished, constantly. Who he slept with or spent time with was his own business, and there was a whole life that Mokuba had in another country! For some reason the gravity of that meant nothing to his brother. Even Yuugi, who knew very little about where he'd been and what he'd been doing, asked more questions than Seto.

Mokuba was fit to bursting with stories and experiences. Friends that came and went, opportunities for first times both indulged and declined, professors hated and loved, terrible and wonderful classes and groups and people and connections. There were just so many things. It was disheartening to not be able to talk to family about it. Seto was the only family he had, and he was still trying to ingratiate himself with Yuugi and the rest before he started boasting about how good a time he had.

The only person he was speaking to regularly was Yami so far. And somehow, he didn't think that having a sit down to gush about his college life would be welcome. Easy sex was the name of that game, and Mokuba didn't think anything good would come of breaking the rules.

"Like the cursing?" Seto leered at him, judgment already saturating his gaze.

"What?"

"The swearing, Mokuba." Seto took a moment to sit up straight and make sure that their eyes were meeting.

"That happened a long time ago. It's habit now." Considering how long Seto had waited to confront him about it Mokuba felt like being petty. "It's not like I would do it in a meeting or anything. Seto  _you_ swear when you're really frustrated."

"In private. And rarely."

Mokuba rolled his eyes, and kept his voice low. "You know damned well I'm capable of being professional. And already hired at _our_  company anyway. When have you ever heard me talk like that in the building? This—this is personal time." It wasn't his only habit. Seto trained him well on how to speak to people: the strongest words to choose to get his point across, the right words that invoked feelings of credibility and trust in the person that he was talking to; he knew very well how to manipulate, and he had a well versed vocabulary both in Japanese  _and_ English. Mokuba wouldn't have even been allowed out of the country without knowing all of these things.

Maybe Seto thought that he'd forgotten.

"And the smoking?"

That wasn't really something he could excuse, really. It was just a bad coping mechanism, and he could admit that. "It's just something that I do sometimes?" 

This part of the conversation felt a little more normal, at least. Seto wasn't the only one that had issue with it. Sometimes it felt like he drew stares from everyone in Domino (besides Yami, of course), especially during the day. He didn't smoke often, really. A pack could last him nearly a month, sometimes. It was just the ritual that he liked: it gave him an excuse for a breather in stressful situations, gave him something else to focus on. Yami, on the other hand, definitely lied about how often he smoked. When Mokuba had too many in one day, he could feel the habit creeping up on him, urging him to do it more often. He didn't want to, though. he took breaks instead.

When he was in the 'States, things were a little easier to manage. There were ...other stress relievers besides smoking that were a little harder to come by in Japan, and he wasn't known well enough to be caught indulging in them. Mokuba didn't want to get KaibaCorp caught up in anything resembling a scandal. He was already flirting that line with Yami and he preferred to keep his stunts to one manageable mess at a time.

"You're going to kill yourself." None of that intent made it across to Seto. "How often do you smoke?"

"Only sometimes." 

Without missing a beat, Seto asked again, " _How often_  do you smoke?"

Mokuba didn't hesitate. He couldn't afford to be seen as a weak child just because he was different. If they were going to make this a lightning round, all he could say was  _bring it._  "A couple a week. Sometimes not even that. Like I said—"

"Packs?"

"No. I said a couple and that's what I meant." When another question didn't immediately follow, Mokuba took the chance to delay another question by cleaning a few bites off of his plate.

At this point, Mokuba just wanted to get to the crux of the matter. Discussing all these lead ups didn't change the main topic.  He didn't want to let his brother leave him raw and exposed and hurting at the end of this conversation. 

 

"...where did the motorcycle come from?"

It finally clicked for him.

Mokuba was pretty sure that this resembled some sort of parenting commercial that he had seen overseas. They were sitting at a table, looking awkward and uncomfortable because they weren't enjoying each other's company. Seto was the concerned Dad making sure that the wrong influences hadn't gotten his brother in their clutches.  _Is that what this is?_

He guessed he did fit the stereotype, right? Smoking, sex, a general disregard for how his family pictured him. His typical leather jacket and motorcycle completed the ensemble. Perfect. 

_Ugh._

"A friend in Syracuse. I spent a couple weeks with his family in the summer, and I learned how to ride his bike. Then I decided to get the license for it. I like bikes and I didn't know what I was missing until I rode one. I bought LaShonda after and I've been in love with her ever since."

"A friend." 

 Mokuba rolled his eyes. "Yes."

"Sleep with him?" Blunt, as usual, and straight to the point. 

Talking to his brother was never quite just  _talking;_ it was a battle. Seto poked and prodded but never delved in except to agitate weakness. It was disappointing to see that of all of the things that had changed over the years in Domino, he was not one of them.

But they made it here, at least. Mokuba crossed his arms at the table, not caring about how rude it looked. "I don't sleep with every guy I see, Seto. It's kind of rude as fuck to assume that." He felt like he had the right to say that. Seto was out of line.

 And he seemed to know it, too. Seto moved on without much fuss. "La... Sho-n-da?" He was even having trouble pronouncing the word.

Mokuba sighed. The novelty hadn't been there to begin with, and after nearly an hour of cold silence this was a pretty shitty finale. "It's the bike's name."

"Why?"

"I bought it used; I didn't name her. I felt like it made sense to keep her old one."

He didn't understand why Seto was approaching him like this. It wasn't as though his motives were concealed. Pressing about all these small details wouldn't reveal anything meaningful, and he thought it was pretty obvious that the real point of this conversation was to ask about Yami. Instead of being straightforward about it, Seto was moving along his typical path: be a dick and put the pressure on anyone involved—eventually they would get nervous enough to explain themselves.

It'd probably work if he were anyone else. 

There _were_ things he wanted to talk about: Why couldn't he be asked about the woman who'd taken his virginity, or the first time he'd been so drunk he'd puked on himself - or when he'd shared his first kiss with a man and decided it wasn't so bad? What about the fake confidence it took for him to navigate in a foreign country where he knew practically no one for the first year or so? The two of them were separated for more than six years. 

Seto hadn't even asked about his grades or how graduation went. Did he even know what Mokuba had gotten his degrees in?

He glanced at his watch and stood silently. _Calm down._  Mokuba could admit he was wrong. He'd hoped a friendly atmosphere would help with feeling less pressured, and instead it compounded everything. Mokuba Kaiba couldn't outburst in public; that would be inappropriate.

Blue eyes followed as he moved away from the table. "Leaving?" There were lights dancing in his eyes, adding onto the question. Seto was expecting him to do the work to interpret things, after all. " _You were the one who suggested this, Mokuba. Tired of the questions?_  " Silently was the only way that Seto ever spoke, and Mokuba didn't have the patience he'd counted on being able to summon.

He thought he was ready for this, to stake his claim as an individual. 

"I need a smoke," he said.

Seto was smart enough to read between the lines; he hunted weakness for a living. "There is no smoking in the building, you know."

Some of the other patrons were watching from their tables. They were too well known, he reminded himself, for him to make this conversation too personal. He would have to endure it at least until he made it home. There were no cameras there, no one left to recognize his face (or his brother's), and he could just be himself. In his bed he could be just as disappointed and angry as he wanted.

"That's why I'm leaving."

"Mokuba." Though Seto hadn't said much, he recognized it as a statement. " _Leave or sit_ ," those blue eyes told him. 

But that warning was just enough to claw under his skin and pinch something delicate. For a split second, he lost control. " _What?_ " he snapped.

A nearby waiter turned and made eye contact, wanting to know if he was needed. Mokuba shook his head and grabbed at his jacket, searching the pockets. He didn't carry any on him most of the time, but he was sure there was a strays or two somewhere.

In all honesty he had never wanted a cigarette so badly in his life, both to upset Seto and to calm his nerves.

Apparently he was moving too slowly. Seto also stood, tutting before he made for the nearest exit. Mokuba was meant to follow, and for the sake of appearances he did so without another word. Jacket in hand, they stalked their way to the front entrance. Several pairs of eyes followed them out. At the door, they were stopped by the maître'd, asking question. Seto said a few words and that was that.

They didn't simply hang about at the door. Seto hung a left and continued down the street a ways, until they passed a few other groups of people crossing at an intersection. The babble would conceal the rest of their discussion. The sun was low, too, so there wouldn't be too long a time for anyone to recognize their faces, either.

"...when did you start sleeping with people?" 

A long, audible sigh filled the air between them. It was a start, but the taste of the conversation was still bitter. "Why does that matter?"

"It doesn't. But I'm curious."

"Really now? That's interesting." Finally, buried deep in a side pocket, Mokuba managed to find a cigarette. It was slightly bent, but so long as it held that shape it'd be good enough. "About what, exactly?"

"Don't light that. I'm standing right here."

He could feel the heat of anger on his skin, now. Suppressed but still there, just underneath his guise of nonchalance. If his brother was going to be that much of a dick, then,  _Fuck it._ "I know. Is that what you really want to know? Or do you want to ask about Yami?" 

"Either," Seto conceded. Mokuba opened his mouth to answer, but his brother cut him off again. "—or both."

He wondered what would happen if he answered honestly. What would his brother's reaction be? "Three years ago." Mokuba lit his cigarette quickly, a distraction.

"I told you not to light that."

"I know. But my patience is shot. I'm out of here." There was no point in lingering, really. "Charge me for the bill tomorrow." They were already at the corner; his bike was nearby.

All it took was a swift turn and he'd be nearly on his way. He needed some time alone. At least at home, he wouldn't have to keep watching his brother be disappointed in him. About smoking or anything else.

"—Mokuba."

He didn't turn, but he did lean back. A rather short woman passed in front of him, and he didn't want to run into her. "What?"

"If your boyfriend ever speaks to me like that again, I'm pressing charges. And that goes for you too. I don't want to know about your business."

He was speechless, to say the least. That was probably the only thing Seto had come to say, bullshit aside—and that hurt a little more than everything else. 

 _It was never about you, of course_. Mokuba reminded himself.

But he would hold his ground here. Anyone calling more than three times for a non-emergency was ridiculous. His  _brother_  doing it was just creepy and rude. "Don't call me unnecessarily after work hours."

"I need to know where you are."

 _You don't need to know jack shit,_  was what he wanted to say. "First of all, you _don't_. Secondly, if it's that important Seto, just text me okay?"

When he started off this time, he didn't stop. Giving his brother a chance to respond would just make things worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 12/11/18 - my goodness this needed a lot of cleaning up. It was just super rough around the edges, even with the last changes I made. It's still relatively the same as the 1/14 edit, but hopefully things are much more clear. I have to say that I'm not looking forward to getting through some of the other longer chapters again. Sheesh.
> 
> 1/28/14 - normally I don't edit chapters out of order like this, but I really needed to make some heavy changes to this chapter. It's definitely not the same was before. The pacing has improved and some of the settings have been written to be a little more consistent.
> 
> FYI: This is prompt #58.


	5. Whisper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You slept with Mokuba?"

"You weren't joking, right? You slept with Mokuba?"

Yuugi mentioned it casually, as though they were talking about the weather or asking about each other's week. But the library really wasn't the best place for this conversation. They were planted in chairs in front of one of the computer terminals. It was a little cramped but manageable. Didn't offer much privacy, though.

Normally, Yami perused the shelves while others were working; he was good at finding books he would enjoy and generally being an errand boy for friends while they were studying for exams. Today he was feeling a bit lethargic. They were alone. Yuugi was supposed to working on a paper. He'd brought some books with him and was pouring through them, occasionally tapping away at the keyboard in front of him. 

In all honesty, Yami preferred doing the bulk of his reading at home. The near-absolute quiet that most libraries demanded made it difficult for him to concentrate. He didn't like it. When things were too quiet, he usually ended up doing a lot of thinking about himself - something he had worked hard to do less and less of as the years had gone by. Reading was actually quite a welcome distraction from his own thoughts.

The initial reveal hadn't garnered too much of a response, like Yuugi didn't believe him. Though they were in agreement that Mokuba was pretty hot now. Yuugi hadn't brought it up again until now.

Yami didn't see the point in treating it like a secret, not between the two of them. Keeping secrets from each other was fairly difficult.

"Don't look at me like that," Yuugi said, his voice low. As he spoke, he quickly flipped the pages of a small notebook back and forth. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't being sarcastic or something."

A man wearing sunglasses in the cubicle to their left spared a moment to glance over at them. Yami caught his eye as his face shifted into a quizzical expression, something between confusion and amusement, and he looked away.

"...if you're going to eavesdrop, you could at least be a bit more inconspicuous about it," Yami sighed, trying to keep his voice down.  Going unnoticed wasn't an easy task. The cubicles were so close together, he would have had to be at least two over to not be heard. Yuugi's timing was just awful.

The man pushed his chair out from the enclosed desk and moved up to another computer in the row ahead.

Yuugi's face flushed and he watched the man move. " _Please,_ Yami, don't do that. People know me here."

"You asked the obvious question," he replied, turning a page of his newspaper and continuing to read about how the Engineering College was bringing in revenue to the school. "Tactlessly, too. And it's a wonder that you're well-known, Yuugi; you spend all your time at home. How many classes are you taking again?" Yami already knew that Yuugi was taking only two classes (and a 'lab'? He didn't quite know how that worked); he was just being a dick.

Yuugi glared at him "...I just—I ...I dunno. I just wasn't expecting it."

"It's not like we wrote out a plan." Nope. Yami was just gloating. "Actually, I wasn't too sure about it myself at first, but—"

"Not that I need to know everything, but you didn't even tell me? Like," Yuugi's turned to give Yami his full attention, twirling a pencil in his hands, "how long ago did this happen? Were you guys going out before I knew he was back—"

"We're not going out," Yami said pointedly. "It's not that complicated." Because there weren't, and it wasn't. They were just both hot and they knew each other, and it just so happened that it was hard for them to keep their hands off of each other. Simple.

Yami felt the itch to reach for his phone and send a certain someone a text. It was hard to push away the image of Mokuba writhing underneath him. 

When he refocused, Yuugi looked vexed. "Then what exactly are you doing?"

"...nothing, actually." He couldn't really think to describe it any other way without being insulting. 

" _Nothing._ That's such an asshole move. And it happened twice, anyway."

The one-night-stand situation never worked well for Yuugi. He was full of strings, waiting to dig in and latch on; tended to grow close to anyone he kept around for the long term. Even with his friends, it was apparent.

And, yes, it worked where it worked. He was still good friends with everyone. The gang didn't get together as oftenas they  used to; several of them were in school or pursuing other things (in Otogi and Ryou's cases, overseas), but Yuugi kept in regular contact with them all. But when their schedules aligned, they still had a good time together. There was nothing wrong with that.

But this was very different. Keeping everything compartmentalized made things simpler. Escalations or changes had to be discussed. It was clean, neat. Easier to manage. Sex was something Yami preferred not to muddle with friendship, and considering how things had gone so far, they were on the same page. They pretty much had the format down. If either of them were in the mood, all it took was a few messages back and forth. 

"Maybe one other time—"

"Wow. _Three times_ without telling me?" It was rare that Yuugi took such an interest in his affairs these days. He seemed a little impressed as well, which didn't hurt. Though he spared attention to his book for a split second, even Yami could tell he wasn't reading it. "When did the third time happen?"

That was actually a story. Just remembering Kaiba calling in the middle of it all made him chuckle. "Well, really it was all in one go—"

" _Ahem._ "

Both turned, shifting in their seats to see a very disgruntled librarian leering at them. Her gaze was so intense, through her pink bifocals, that Yami was sure that with the help of a Millennium Item the two of them would be on fire. She towered over them, a pencil-like figure casting a thin shadow over Yuugi. 

There were other commotions that she could have been policing, and Yami frowned at her. Instead of telling her off the way that he wanted to, he decided to simply stare back.

Yuugi blushed to his ears. He gulped, typed a few more words, clicked a few times and whispered, "I'm _so_ sorry. We're leaving now."

"I should hope so," the woman said. Then she stood there and waited while Yuugi gathered their things. Yami wouldn't have given up so easily, but if Yuugi was leaving he would too.

He stuck out his tongue at her as they left.

When they made it outside, he burst, "That old crotchety bitch thinks I didn't see that couple making out in General Info and Computer Science? I know she couldn't have missed them." Yami liked libraries when they were busy - hell, he loved reading - but he didn't like people telling him what the fuck to do and not do while he was doing it.

And _that_ was why he'd rather rent the Ra-damned books and take them home.

"Maybe she did. Yami, it's okay, I finished what I needed to. And we were being rude." Yuugi frowned as they began walking down the street and towards the car. After a pause, he added, "Why don't you tell me about stuff like this?"

"It only happened last week." He'd come into the shop the _morning after._ "It's not my fault that you didn't take me seriously."

"I'm just saying that it's something that maybe I should know, as a person that used to - you know. And it's not like I don't know who Mokuba is. I thought things were going well."

Yami neatly sidestepped that talking point. He was sure that neither of them wanted to turn this into a conversation about their relationship with each other. "Things are fine. They're fine. Yuugi—are you having _withdrawal issues?_ " 

"That's not it, Yami!" Yuugi sped his pace for all of two seconds, walking ahead of Yami so that he could turn and bar the path ahead. "I just feel like that was important, and maybe I should have known that you were going out with someone new!"

"Oh Ra _,_ Yuugi. We're not going out."

"That's just wrong, I think. What does he think you're doing?"

"Fucking, pretty much." Yami's hands were in his pockets, fishing for a cigarette. "That was the first time that it happened, too. When I told you, I mean." It didn't take long to find one.

Yuugi knew what he was doing. "And when did you start that up again?"

"I just don't do it around you and Gramps." He paused. "Usually." 

Yuugi paused. Those large eyes were already pleading with him to put it out.

"Look, Yuugi - fine. I get it. I'm not hiding anything. We're fine, I promise." He found his lighter, lit it and took a much needed drag. "I don't secretly hate you or anything like that. Even if I did, you'd know it, anyway."

Although the magic in the Millennium Items was no longer active, their mental link was still functional. They couldn't read each other's thoughts - apparently that was a 'body-sharing only' feature - but they could still feel emotions. It was overwhelming when either of one of them was feeling anything intensely, when something was very wrong or very right, but otherwise Yami was used to it. Proximity affected it, too; the closer they were the more nosey they could be.

Yuugi still looked uncomfortable. "...I'm glad. I was worried."

He took a moment to smoke a little more before answering. "I know." Yuugi spent most of his days worried about something or another. If not Grandpa, then his friends or Yami.

Sometimes it was unbelievable how selfless Yuugi could be, in spite of everything that they'd been through together.

"...I just don't want you to feel weird about me hanging out with him."

That took Yami a moment to piece together. Sadly, their link didn't make clear the _why_ of any particular emotion (and boy, would they have avoided a shit ton of problems if that were the case). Why would he feel strangely about anyone being friendly with anyone else?

Sometimes he was sure that Yuugi had forgotten; these were _his_ friends. All of their friends had been Yuugi's first. "Yuugi - _you_ could sleep with Mokuba and I wouldn't care. He can take care of himself."

"Why would you say something like that? You can't sleep with someone three times and not go out with them. It's... it's..." Yuugi was searching for the right word, and they fell into silence as Yami waited for him to find it. "...it's ungentlemanly."

Yami laughed his way back to Sugoroku's truck. "You know I'm no prize; if Mokuba wanted to date me he would have asked."

"I don't know how you just—how you're just brave like that. Like, there was no pretense at all?" Maybe that selflessness wasn't so hard to put together after all. Yuugi was always doing things for other people.

"There was the pretense that I wanted him, considering how fucking good looking he is. And he's not a stranger. I didn't think that there needed to be another one."

Yuugi sighed, kicking some small piece of gravel down into the street. "Am I driving or you?"

"You," Yami said. "I don't feel like it. Here, hold this," he said, handing Yuugi the last of his cigarette while he put on his jacket.

His eyes slid suspiciously over to Yuugi when he heard a long exhale. Yuugi pulled that off quite smoothly, smoke clouding the air for just a second.

"What?" Yuugi stuck out his tongue. "Just because I don't smoke doesn't mean I don't know how to - tastes terrible by the way; I don't know what you people like about it - you smoke, Jou smokes and Mokuba smokes."

"Mokuba's only been back a week or two. He doesn't count."

"If you've already slept with him, Yami, I think it's safe to count him."

"...touché."

Yuugi walked around to the driver's side of the car, smiling now and flicking the cigarette into the street even though there was some left. Yami rolled his eyes and got into the car when the door unlocked. "Is there anything else that I should know? Are you and Jou a thing now, too?"

Yami laughed again. "Please. We both know that if he wasn't straight I'd leave all that up to you. But yeah," he added, glad he had the opportunity to make Yuugi feel included. "Seto called."

Yuugi started the truck. "Today? For what?"

"No, no - while I was at Mokuba's."

"Sounds a bit awkward."

"I guess he's been keeping tabs on him. He wouldn't stop calling."

"Ew."

"—Mokuba told him we were _fucking_..."

"You've _got_ to be kidding me!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 12/11/18 - Phew. Okay. So, this conversation is mostly the same but I definitely took out some stuff that was just too over the top and ridiculous. Here's to taking the edge out of old projects!
> 
> 1/29/15 - I filled in a few things and fixed up some of the pacing. Original commentary below.
> 
> There! Yay! Let it be said that I promote good hikari/yami relationships!
> 
> I like this scene! I wanted them to have drifted apart at the time that Be Cool happens, but only in personal interaction; I don't think that living together and helping Gramps the way that they are in this story they would be far apart or distant from each other. Other than some of Yami's personal angst there aren't many problems with their life.
> 
> Also-yay for Yuugi being in school. I like this better than the conversation with Mokuba. ^_^


	6. Wet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a bit hard explaining to himself that he couldn't just call Mokuba up for a fuck when he was free.

Matching their schedules was surprisingly difficult.

Yami knew for the most part when he was working the shop; he and Yuugi had a system. Monday through Wednesday, Sugoroku was more energetic in the morning and insisted on opening the shop himself and Yami helped. Those days Yuugi had a slew of morning classes, so it made more sense to leave the afternoon hours open for him. Thursday and Friday were similar but reversed. Yami got to sleep in because Yuugi had afternoon classes. They both split the weekends based on what they had planned and very rarely did they have any problems covering for one another. Sometimes Yuugi needed time to study, or a class got canceled or something.

Evenings, regardless, were typically his.

Being flexible for Yuugi and his grandfather was an obligation. They had taken him in, and he wouldn't dare be ungrateful. Most of the time he wasn't up to anything remotely important, anyway. Working the shop didn't stop him from reading or working creatively, so it wouldn't make sense to put up any resistance about it. If there was something he _really_ wanted to go to or do, he would just talk with them about it.

But it seemed almost as though some force was conspiring to him and Mokuba apart.

Mokuba had weekends off but this week, it felt like Yuugi needed to catch up on what had to have been every single assignment he'd ever received. When Yami had afternoons off, Kaiba made Mokuba stay late to do whatever it was that they did at KaibaCorp. Unpaid overtime, much in the fashion of the infamous Kaiba work ethic.

From what was explained to him, the last couple weeks of blissful fucking had been brought to Yami by delayed processing; Mokuba had to be officially hired on the books for the company again before he could start working. It sounded like bullshit.

Yami didn't like having limited options.

The redeeming quality to what time they did spend together, was that it was often at night. So he would stay the night they almost always had early morning sex. There wasn't any discussion about it, really; after that first time in the shower it had become a regular thing.

He would never tell Mokuba, but dawn was his favorite time of the day.

It had always been, especially when he'd lived as Atem. For him, there was no light more magnificent than that of the rising sun; no moment more sacred than when Ra saw fit to grace the earth once again. The way it chased away the darkness, glittered over water, kissed skin with its warm glow.

Whenever he thought of those moments he could see in his mind's eye, the silhouette of curves arching in the sun's luminous glory. One soul, split into two bodies and honoring the fortune given to them, the gods shining behind them as a testament to their...

Yami forced his mind to another place. Memories could be dangerous things. That was the one thing he knew better than most.

Sex in the shower was convenient. They didn't need to bother with trekking to another room for clean-up, they could stay as long as they wanted (provided they got out of bed early enough), and Mokuba wasn't as picky about condoms.

Mokuba's hair turned slick under the water, and that was something he liked, too.

The downside was that Mokuba always wanted to be really close when they were in the shower. He liked all of the whispers and sweet nothings and the mushy shit.

Yami just wasn't really good at that type of thing. It was a bit annoying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 12/11/18 - just a little more clean up. It reads a lot smoother now.
> 
> 1/30/15 - I'm going over some of the medium length/longer prompts to correct before I start adding more chapters (if you haven't noticed the changed date on some of the previous chapters). Pardon my dust while this is happening! With that said, I really like this now. I think I managed to finally get things into satisfactory shape. I had to rearrange a lot of stuff and get rid of some things that were redundant.
> 
> 7/5/12 - I actually added a little bit to this, and I thought that it was well deserved. Yami's got some serious skeletons in this closet, and it's suitable for them to be hinted at here. I like this a lot more than I thought I did the first time. Original commentary below.
> 
> Baaaaaaaaaaack to short ones. However, despite this one being short, it's just a small bit of insight into Mokuba and Yami after Mokuba starts working regularly. Just Yami bitching mostly, which he is very wont to do...
> 
> I don't like this one as much as the others. I'll have to see if I can do something better next time.
> 
> FYI: this was Prompt #62.


	7. Best Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some facts of life were funny that way; Mokuba hadn't bothered trying to compare the two of them until he'd begun sleeping with Yami.

Here they were. It was just the two of them, in a coffee house.

The place was decorated with rather fanciful wooden furniture. Intricate reliefs depicted trees with whirling, curling branches, and made the impression that the tables and chairs had been donated by some benevolent elf or pixie. Even the lamps were shaped like little fairies, twinkling lights with transparent wings that bent the rays. Every surface had been polished until they could see themselves in it; his kind of place, enough quirk but still neat.

He could never see himself sitting in there with Yami, though, and that thought was enough to make him chuckle. Some facts of life were funny that way.

For example, Mokuba hadn't bothered trying to compare the two of them until he started sleeping with Yami.

He was one of the first to accept that they were, in fact, separate people. Maybe it was because he was still young and just wanted to believe. A child with a rampant imagination was never out of the ordinary. Yuugi had seemed _too different_ when he dueled.

Knowing that they were two separate people answered a lot of questions. Yami's presence explained the villainous forces in Domino, the constant danger they had all been in, the Shadow Realm and the bodies its soul-stealing essence had left behind. Fiascos that, quietly as it was kept, Seto Kaiba had gone through great lengths to conceal from the eye of the public.

Never had he ever questioned that logic. Yuugi was one person and Yami was another. It was the easiest thing in the world to understand.

And yet, Yuugi had been so nervous about explaining the tale to anyone who hadn't played the game with Bakura. He had been afraid that those who knew him would reject them both. But even Seto couldn't deny it, especially when one day, Yami stood right in front of him as proof.

Mokuba remembered it well. Seto had hoped to convince Yuugi to duel him again and didn't particularly care about the reason they were asked to visit. He recalled enthusiastically greeting Yami for the first time and thanking him. Unfortunately, Seto hadn't seen fit to address him at all - to this day, Mokuba was certain that seeing Yami made his brother uncomfortable.

It was a reminder that he was _wrong._

Mokuba and Yuugi talked more frequently back then, before he was sent off to school. He wouldn't say that they were close, but he'd always felt that the door for that path was open if he wanted to take it.

It was difficult feeling valuable when everyone else had managed and persisted without him. He didn't want to be Yuugi's friend unless he could bring something of importance to their 'team' - money and fame just wasn't enough; it hadn't gotten his brother very far. And whatever it was that Seto had, whatever connection to the past that made him relevant, Mokuba lacked it.The icing on the cake was that he was not a duelist. Mokuba could hold his own in casual play but was not anywhere near a competitive level.

Thinking back on it, he regretted not taking Yuugi up on multiple offers to become better acquainted with him and his friends. Still, they talked a little. Saving the world was not something that was easy to get over, after all.

Years later, Mokuba wondered about Yami. Did he suffer from the same thoughts? It was just so strange, watching someone who had once been a living, breathing Pharaoh do anything of the things Yami did. The cursing, the smoking, the—

Well, he tried not to think about it while they were having sex, honestly. But it was still weird.

It was difficult to fathom all of the differences between the two of them, because he didn't know either of them very well. 

Maybe that was what made it easier. Domino hadn't changed much in the time that he had been away. But being so active overseas only emphasized how sheltered he was as a kid. Mokuba didn't have very many friends in Japan. He kept his nose in his books and followed his brother's instructions as closely as possible. Though he learned a lot, and those things were invaluable, there were other lessons he never would have learned from Seto. This city didn't feel like home anymore.

Yami's brash attitude was almost familiar, and Mokuba could recognize when someone found him attractive. The energy between them hadn't required knowing much else. The whole encounter just seemed par for the course.

Spending his nights hip-deep in depravity offered some interesting perks. It forced subtle differences to the surface: Yuugi's posture was much better and he blinked more often when he was excited; he drummed fingers on the table when he was feeling impatient, whereas Yami clung tightly to the edges of things; he wrung his hands when he was worried but Yami chewed his lip.

Yuugi always smiled. There was a smile for every expression: he had a nervous smile, a melancholy one, and a somehow even brighter smile that reached his eyes when he received news that was overwhelmingly good. He only frowned when things were very wrong, or he was tired.

Yuugi wore his heart on his sleeve. Yami appeared to be the opposite.

There were similarities, however: the both of them leaned toward the person they were speaking to, especially when things were private or important. Their eyebrows moved in similar ways, too, even when their eyes and lips did not. They both crossed their arms when they were annoyed. Yuugi with crossed arms and a contrasting smile was an odd sight indeed.

It would be interesting to see what other attributes they shared, Mokuba decided. He suspected that there were few secrets between them.

The longer they sat there in the fantastical coffee shop, the more confident Mokuba felt about his choices.

For a while they talked about things that Mokuba missed. Yuugi had been in school half-time or less for the past few years while helping his grandfather with the Game Shop. While it was unfortunate to hear about his grandfather's scruples with aging, it was nice to know that the shop survived quite well over the years and was still going strong.

He could remember spending days at a time with Yuugi and the gang in the upstairs apartment, playing Duel Monsters. Mokuba felt at peace with them. Even something as simple as watching a movie, with Jounouchi and Honda squabbling for the remote, was a fond memory. Or helping Anzu draft an essay for her college application, or going to the grocery store for dinner ingredients while dodging his security detail. Those memories kept him hopeful that he would be welcomed back to Domino with open arms.

It was both immensely flattering and scary that he had been right.

Mokuba also brought up the idea of Yuugi working at KaibaCorp. The job paid handsomely, even if Yuugi was determined to keep away from most of Seto's endeavors. He knew what the answer would be, but if Seto found out that they talked and Mokuba hadn't extended the offer, he was sure to be in trouble.

When Yuugi declined, saying that it would be awkward to work at KaibaCorp because of Yami and 'everything that had happened', Mokuba couldn't blame him. But after, Yuugi blushed, complaining about the warmth of the room.

He got the inkling that there was a bit more on Yuugi's mind than the ordeal in Egypt or even saving the world, for that matter.

He sipped his triple latter, smiling as their chatter fell into silence. Though it was very nice of Yuugi to indulge in small talk, Mokuba knew what this invite was for. Since the ruse had slipped a little, he figured that this was as good a moment as ever to get straight to the point.

Smirking into another sip, he called quietly, "Yuugi?" 

"Yes?" Yuugi couldn't seem to stop blushing, glancing at him for just a second before training his gaze on a nearby window.

Mokuba waited to catch Yuugi's eyes when he turned back. "How much do you know?"

The blush seemed to take over his whole face. "...not as much as you think I do," he said.

There was no use in being coy about it. "Well, Seto knows now - sort of - so there's no use in keeping anything from you." Mokuba stretched in his chair. "Was there anything you wanted to ask in particular?"

Finding out about your best friend is having sex with another friend was a potentially awkward situation, and Mokuba would rather face that head-on. He'd been in this situation before, and the last thing he wanted was to make Yuugi nervous about it, or like it wasn't any of his business.

 _Well, it is sort of none-of-his-business_ , but Yuugi and Yami were a special case. No matter how much time he spent with either of them, it was kind of hard to shake the knowledge that they were in the same body at some point - or something close enough.

"Nothing," Yuugi said, his voice faltering a bit. "I'm not like that! Yami can do what he wants. I just... I just want to make sure that he's taking good care of you, and you're being good to him, and..."

Mokuba chuckled. It shouldn't have surprised him, though; Yuugi worried about everyone and always had. "Who exactly are you worried about being hurt here?"

He wondered just how much Yuugi knew about Yami and his ...preferences. Appearances were deceiving and to be honest, Mokuba found it hard to believe that Yuugi would remain oblivious to everything forever. Yuugi was optimistic, yes, but not stupid; and Mokuba was no stranger to pretending to be innocent.

Appearing innocent was quite an easy task when standing next to Seto Kaiba. It was an ability developed in the shadow of his brother's cold demeanor.

"I'm not sure," Yuugi said. His voice seemed to pulse with emotion. "I don't know much about the situation, but I just wanted to - I dunno, give out a general warning I guess? I'm not Yami's dad or brother or anything, but—"

"I think I could count you as close enough."

"—I'm just saying I don't want to overstep any boundaries—"

No matter what lens the situation was seen through, Mokuba was still the outsider. He was the one treading on thin ice.

"So you're politely threatening to kick my ass if I fuck this up. Gotcha. I don't mind." It was sweet, really.

Yuugi's face couldn't get any more red but his expression became more intense. For a moment he held his face in his hands. "No, I'm—"

But Mokuba cut him off again. There was a greater point to be made. "I accept your threat."

Yuugi needed to take himself more seriously. It was good to be nice to those who deserved it, but that didn't mean that he should water-down his intentions. Mokuba wasn't anyone special, and just because they knew each other didn't eliminate the possibility of ulterior motives. Yuugi being concerned made sense.

"What?"

"Although I have to say - he's got quite a set of teeth and claws himself." 

After a few seconds of silence, Yuugi finally answered, "I believe you." Those giggles gave way to laughter and he pressed on to say, "He's into some..." before covering his mouth again.

He wondered absently whether they shared any of the same interests.

The wisp of an image passed through his mind of Yuugi splayed underneath him on his bed in Yami's place, and he had to fight the urge to frown. He just couldn't see it. _Too weird._ In the same way that he could tell the coffeehouse was suited to their tastes, Mokuba knew that scenario wasn't suited to either of them. It was a strange thing to think of.

He tried to hold it in but failed and soon enough, they were both laughing.

"That was funny. I like you, Yuugi. Really. I think that this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

Yuugi's looked shocked, but he this time there was no hint of a smile on his face at all. "We weren't already friends?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 12/11/18 - I cut a little fat off of this. Too much telling. I have a feeling I'm going to be doing that with other chapters, too. I've got my work cut out for me, but it's worth it. I also tweaked some diction for more consistent characterization. Italics were running a bit rampant, too.
> 
> 1/30/15 - I made a lot of major changes this time as well, although most of them were adding in content and re-arranging some things. The dialogue was mostly fine (due to the previous revision to this chapter; see below), but I needed to organize Mokuba's thoughts better and remove some redundancies.
> 
> 7/5/12 - Major changes to this chapter. I added a lot of internal dialogue to this chapter. There were a few things that I think could be better relayed or explained. When I was writing these in the beginning I had this idea that everything I dtype had to be drabble length, under a certain amount of words. However, I've never actually set an official word count for myself and if you're re-reading this you'll realize that my chapters have grown longer as the years have gone by. Original commentary below.
> 
> This was Prompt #59.


	8. Talking Dirty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yami stirred in the middle of the night. Something made noise.

Something made noise. Crimson eyes blinked to life.

Yami was a strange sleeper. He was often alert even while resting; a sensitivity developed being vigilant of evil presences and, try as he might, it had never left him. Sleeping next to another person was more difficult. The result was often him lying awake for hours.

Sure of this fact, Yami waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. He brushed a few strands of hair out of his eyes, and listened. Turning as silently as he could manage, his eyes swept over the room to the small table an arms length away. Although he couldn't see, Yami knew that the Millennium puzzle sat on its surface.

 _It's useless now._ He paused to catch his breath and calm his nerves. Ears pounding, Yami rolled over to scan the rest of the room.

Nothing seemed out of place. Maybe Yuugi had tossed or turned? It wouldn't be the first time that something so small disturbed his sleep. Yami strained his ears, unsure of what he was listening for.

It took a few seconds for the rush of panic to fade away. What remained was a muttering sound - a voice.

"Oh, that sounds _... great_ ," Yuugi said. There was something else that Yami couldn't quite hear, and - was that a moan he heard? The sounds were muted, and Yami concluded that he was probably bundled underneath his covers across the room. Like usual.

" _Yes._ "  _That_  was definitely a moan.

Then Yuugi said something else, but Yami only caught the word a word or two. There was some shuffling and Yami saw a sudden light glowing from Yuugi's side of the room.  _A phone?_ Who could he possibly be—

Yami tried not to laugh as he put the pieces together.  _Fucking-Ra-Almighty_.  _Fuck_.

Now he was curious.

 _Who is that? Really - while I'm sleeping, though?_ Risky, at least.

 _A little kinky_ , he decided.

The mystery solved, Yami faced the next step: should he get up and leave, maybe rouse loudly to go get some water and not come back; or simply lay back and enjoy the music? He was split in favor of both options. Even if he wasn't a phone person, he would definitely stay on the phone for something likethis, especially if he would be getting a real piece of ass later.

And it wouldn't be the first time he had rubbed one out to the sound of Yuugi's voice.

The situation was bursting with potential. What would Yuugi's reaction be if he'd stood up right then and told Yuugi to  _shut the fuck up_  because he wanted some sleep? 

There were too many thoughts at once. He shut them out in favor of listening for anything that would clue him into what was going on: a name or even the comforter moving again. Yuugi had his own way of just being so damned adorable. 

There was another moan (but no name unfortunately), the word "fuck", and then Yami made the decision to get up and leave. It was just the polite thing to do. He had no clue how he was going to do it, though. Another moment passed before he made a move. He rolled over noisily, rustling sheets and kicking his entire body in an attempt to attract attention.

There was a muffled " _hang on..._ " from Yuugi. Then Yami tumbled out of bed, his body noisily smacking the floor.

Yuugi turned over to face him, quick as lightning (though he didn't leave the bed) and said loudly, "Fuck! Are you okay?" His voice cracked somewhere along the way.

Yami let out his own string of curses. Falling so hard hadn't quite happened on purpose, but he hadn't seriously harmed himself. He saw the phone's light go out, and mumbled a bit more for effect.

Yuugi cleared his throat. "Yami - wake up," he said.

"Aww _fuck_ ," Yami groaned, stretching his limbs. The side of his body that hit ground tingled unpleasantly.

Yuugi looked worried. But Yami noticed that other than turning over, he still hadn't moved. "Are you okay?" Yuugi asked again.

"What the fuck do you think, Yuugi?" He grumbled. 

"Nightmare?" Yuugi asked, and Yami tried hard not to point out that Yuugi's body couldn't be leaning any farther out from his bed without risking the same fall.

He didn't milk it. Yami pushed himself up to his feet and marched out, his own comforter and pillow in tow. He didn't slam the door, though; he didn't want to wake up Sugoroku.

Once the door shut him, he leaned back against it, sighing out his laugh. It was a good call all around; he wasn't sure he could handle being in there from start to finish. Yuugi would've noticed he was awake eventually. His side of their link would give him away.

He smirked to himself for a job well done, and moved to go down to the den. The couch wouldn't be so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 12/11/18 - Trimming fat and tidying up. Reads smoother now.
> 
> 2/5/15 - I made some additions to help the story flow a little bit.
> 
> 7/6/12 - I added a few more things to this to fill it out a bit more, but if you've read this one before there's no additional content besides expanded descriptions and a few more references to other things within the sure what to think of this one. I know exactly who Yuugi is talking to, but it didn't seem prudent to reveal the name here in this one. Perhaps it will turn up a bit later ^_^ 
> 
> FYI: This is prompt #43.


	9. Writhe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was the kind of thing that Yami did. He couldn't really complain, especially since the last time they'd gone out he'd gotten drunk off his ass and puked everywhere.

What an interesting name for a club.

Mokuba really wasn't a dance club kind of guy. He knew it was weird, because he loved to dance, but he was more of a "hang out" kind of guy. It was easy to feel comfortable in a bar or at someone's house. His welcome back party had at home for that very reason.

There was nothing wrong with going out to have fun, but he preferred to do it in small groups with people that he already knew. Being with friends was relaxing; Mokuba could talk about anything and felt more comfortable in those settings. Meeting strangers at night was something that required a certain vibe. It took real courage to offer himself up to any passerby.

But this was the kind of thing that Yami did often, apparently. Honestly Mokuba didn't really believe him at first. In all the time that they had spent together, Yami had never mentioned or spoken about going anywhere. He mostly stayed in the apartment and read when he had spare time before a shift at the shop. More surprising was that Yuugi wanted to come along. He hadn't pegged Yuugi as a clubber either, but the two of them went on and on about various stories they had at this place. From all the shared jokes and references they told, Mokuba had to concede that they were frequent patrons, or at least used to be. 

Jounouchi, Anzu and Honda wanted to join them. Clearly they all liked this club a lot, and Mokuba was out of the loop - which wasn't surprising, all things considered.

The building was old and ratty and looked like a hole-in-the-wall that he would find in New York. Those sorts of clubs were a dime a dozen. Old buildings that were condemned, hotels that were shut down and no longer in service; many of them were re-purposed as grunge clubs. But he'd never even though of there being something like this in Domino. Still, a few things were much different than in the 'States. The club's front entrance was swept clean, the admission line was orderly and quiet outside of the building; and behind the doorman was a greeter, some woman dressed in dark colors and darker makeup who uttered a soft  _welcome_  as they purchased their wristbands. It was a strange mix of East and West and Mokuba wasn't sure what to think of it.

Many of his memories of his dive into the clubbing life were passionate and short-lived and still somehow empty. Hopefully this trip would be different.

Just inside were stairs lit with twinkling lights that descended down into a makeshift lobby. This area was quiet but the _thrum_  of the music still pulsed against the walls of the stairway from further inside. His two hosts nearly skipped down the long flight, and knew exactly where they were going. At the bottom of the stairs was a heavy, metal door. It was closed, and when Yuugi pulled it open Mokuba was hit by the deep, strong bass of whatever was currently playing. It was so loud that he couldn't quite hear the song itself. He could feel it, though.

There was another doorman waiting for them and they were frisked briefly. He wasn't Japanese and Mokuba wondered, amused, whether or not the proprietors thought having foreign security would be scarier. This club seemed to have the usual open layout. The basement was a long hall punctuated by a bar in the middle. A long ways off he could see bright lights flashing and a few peoples' silhouettes standing and swaying. The dance floor, presumably.

As they moved away from the entrance the sounds assaulting them dissolved from indiscernible noise into music. It was still loud, blaring, but industrial and ...American? He recognized the song. 

"What's wrong?" Yami grunted, turning to face him.

If Mokuba didn't know any better, he would have thought that Yami cared about his opinion of the place.

Yuugi glided through a sparse crowd with a plucky smile on his face. He looked way too innocent for a club like this, but the excitement gave away his tastes. 

"Just checking the place out," Mokuba said casually. "That's all. Never been here before." There were a lot of places in Domino he had been too young to visit - or know about - before he left. He wondered how long this place had been here.

Yami seemed to bristle a little. "Well, I come here quite a bit." Was he nervous?

"I know."  _Is he afraid I won't like it?_ "Chill. Is there a deck or anything?" 

Yami seemed to perk up at the idea of giving a tour. "There's a special room off to the side. Doesn't have a roof." 

Mokuba stuck out his tongue. "Pass. Too hot for that." It was the middle of summer and Domino's sweltering heat discouraged too much outside activity. 

"You sure? I could go with you. For a smoke or something." Was Yami trying to sneak off already?

That wasn't a terrible suggestion. But he knew he'd find it hard to resist a puff or two if they went out there together. "Nah. I don't need it."

It seemed he was going to get a tour whether he liked it or not.

The club itself was as simple as Mokuba figured. It was endearing, actually. There were a lot of clubs that tried too hard to be gimmicky. He preferred places where people could make their own fun. As he'd seen, the bar was near the front and the coat check was to the left of it. There were people running about trying to check in and check out and keep track of their things. He neatly avoided that throng.

Several people were in costume. A lot of them had to check their jackets and props because of the heat. There were women running around in dresses he'd expect at a Halloween party, others in ridiculously high heels, spandex and other odd things.

_Was there a theme or something?_

Bathrooms were in a hallway straight across from the bar. Further back was where the tour ended. Like he'd guessed, the end of the hall opened into a dance floor. The strobe lights were nearly blinding up close.

"Where did Yuugi go?" he asked, after noticing that their friend was nowhere in sight.

"Probably dancing," Yami said. He didn't seem to worried about it. "I think everyone else is already here. What do you want to drink?"

"Can we have drinks on the dance floor?" Yami nodded. "A few beers, to be honest. I'm not particular about the kind right now." Something light.

"Pitchers go 500 yen apiece tonight."

Mokuba wanted to avoid getting fucked up, but maybe he'd see Yami in his natural element if they drank enough together--and he could hold his liquor. The idea of seeing Yami under the influence was enticing. "Good, get whatever you want." He dug in his pocket for a card and handed it over. No use letting anyone else buy drinks for him when they were that cheap. Even if they weren't, he wouldn't let Yami buy him drinks anyway. 

"There are tables over there," Yami pointed out. And there were, in the hall between the bar and the entrance to the dance floor. The areas on either side were populated with tables and chairs, some of them decorated and some plain. "Grab one."

The music was loud, and Mokuba's voice rose as he moved away from Yami. "You said there were other people coming?"

"Yeah," Yami didn't really have to raise his voice to be heard - his baritone barreled through most of the noise in the room. Mokuba would have picked it anywhere. "Honda, Jounouchi and Anzu are all here already."

"Otogi couldn't make it?" he asked, remembering that he was at the welcome back party before.

Yami shook his head. They were too far apart, and Mokuba turned to find a table.

He had to admit, for an alternative club it was awfully busy. There were people everywhere chatting it up. Some were in costume. All sorts gathered here, and nearly every style was represented: lolita, preppy, gothic, cyber, something that Mokuba could only describe as glowstick - there was even a guy walking around in an old-style  _hakama_.

Most of the tables were square, with chairs pulled up to them in ragged order. There was a television in one of the sitting areas running a string of music videos in line with the songs that were playing. Mokuba didn't see any that he recognized. Other patrons were grouped together, almost in packs, and after glancing around he noticed that almost everyone there was accompanied at least one other person. He was the only one sitting alone.

He tucked his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, and contemplated checking it in so that he wouldn't have to worry about it. The place was warm already, particularly because there were so many people, so he imagined that the dance floor would be unbearable. Air conditioners could only do so much.

Mokuba chuckled to himself. What would Seto would think if he knew that his little brother was in a place like this?

 _It doesn't matter_ , he told himself. It was a petty thought to have.

Yami found him and set a pitcher and two glasses on the table. Mokuba poured himself a glass and downed it.

"I wonder how strong the drinks get in here."

Yami eyed him warily. He probably didn't want to have to worry about toting around a drunken Mokuba this time.

"I don't plan on getting drunk, I promise."

Yami changed the topic, "How's your shitty job doing?" then poured a glass of his own.

That was such a weird question. Yami never asked about work.

Mokuba almost lost hold of his words, but he managed a feeble, "...same as always."  It was the most he could come up with on short notice. He wasn't sure how to answer. Did Yami even know what he did? "What about you?"

The question felt strange in his mouth. They didn't usually have to make small talk, and something about this moment was definitely setting off his awkward-meter.

But Yami's answer was earnest. "It's good. Been busy - some small group's started using the shop as their hangout for practice - that's why I'm glad to be here."

Mokuba reached for the pitcher again and finished off another glass. Cheap beer always hit the spot, and he'd need a good buzz at least if he was going to loosen up enough to dance. Maybe it'd help him do something about whatever they were talking about right now. Not being able to have a smooth, casual conversation with someone that he slept with regularly just didn't seem right.

He cleared his throat. "Seto hasn't been talking to me lately." There, something personal.

Yami scoffed. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Kinda. He is my brother, after all. There's a lot of stuff that I haven't spoken with him about."

"...for example...?" 

He wasn't really trying to put Yami on a train to Sadville, so he kept the explanation streamlined. "Right now he's just--he's just not okay with who I am right now, I think," Mokuba laughed. He wanted to make it sound better, more palatable. But he was talking to Yami, so it didn't matter. "And, you know. He's my brother. I don't care, but I kind of do. Same as always."

It was kind of hard to hide the truth here. Yuugi and his friends had all watched him struggle from underneath his brother's shadow, and keep Seto focused on what was important rather than losing himself in logistics. It wasn't the sort of thing that beared repeating. 

"You can't do both," Yami said. "There needs to be a decision made on that." Then he sipped from his beer.

Well wasn't  _he_  wise?

"I know." He paused, unsure of if he should wait for Yami to refill his glass again. "Things are just turning out to be a bit more difficult than I expected. When I first came back, I knew that Seto was going to have a hard time. But it's just ...weird. It's not that he's objected just to who I am - he doesn't want to find out who that is even."

"Then fuck him. You don't have time to waste on that."

A few lights flashed overhead while the music changed over. The new song had a bounce to it, and Mokuba found himself tapping his foot to the beat.

"That's how I felt at first. It's easy to just sort of say whatever, though. He's my brother. I owe him a bit more persistence, you know? It would be like, if Yuugi went off somewhere for a few years - wouldn't you try hard to recapture some of your old closeness?" It was the closest analogy that Mokuba could think of.

"That is different, I think," Yami said, finally reaching the bottom of his glass. He refilled it, gave Mokuba the last of the pitcher and went back to sipping before continuing. "The closeness that I feel with Yuugi is... That's not only emotional. It is..." 

Something about his voice was different, but Mokuba couldn't put his finger on it.

"Yuugi and I, for all practical purposes, were the same person. We shared the same mental space. And there are other differences. When we are distanced from each other, we can feel it as it happens. With you and Seto, you realized how distanced you were while you were away and spoke to him when you returned to figure out what he was feeling. With Yuugi, I can sense it -  _feel_ it - at the same time that he does. There is no uncertainty there."

 _I guess it's completely different, then._ Far be it for Mokuba to assume he knew anything about magic.

There was a small pause as Yami continued nursing his beer. "But, I do know what you are talking about. Listen. Your decisions shape who you are. Not always the outcome. If you feel that he is important enough for you to continue to try to win him over, then do it. Even if it fails, there is still the proof that you cared for him. There are many people who don't get the chance to make that decision." 

 _Oh_. Mokuba remembered it now. The differences were so easy to miss. How Yami spoke then--it was the voice that he'd had when they'd first met: the Other Yuugi's voice, no slang or drawl. The cadence was different, too. He decided to listen closely; Yami never talked this much, and Mokuba wasn't going to interrupt.

 

"Thanks." Getting thought-provoking advice from Yami was oddly attractive. He felt like he was being let in on some secret. "I'll think about that."

For quite some time Mokuba wondered what had happened to the bold duelist that he'd met in those duels years ago. Yami didn't seem completely different, just tweaked in places, but that just made him more curious. What had shaped him into the man that drinking with him? It was hard not to wonder when he'd been gone so long himself. 

But it seemed like good advice. Sometimes it was hard for Mokuba to get out of his own head. He was a Kaiba, and they got results. It was hard to argue with results; Seto wouldn't.

Yami set down an empty glass. "Do you want to finish that up? You can leave it there."

 _Enough moping._ They made their way to the dance floor.

It was packed. Mokuba couldn't resist the urge to people watch, scoping out what people were wearing: curvy women who were dressed in nothing but corsets and leggings, a man wearing a gas mask and a few younger teens dressed in lolita style dresses - very cute. Glow sticks and flashing lights abound, he was impressed by the creativity of some of these clubbers after having a closer look, especially the ones that mixed styles. 

They were back to the bass blaring louder than the music itself. The room reverberated with the force of it. He felt the change of friction on the floor right before they were enveloped by a sea of bodies. How were they going to find anyone they knew?

Somehow he managed to get lost; turned around and Yami was gone.  _Ugh_. Several seconds passed and he still didn't find anyone, so he pulled out his cell phone. Moving toward the nearest corner, where he could see a bit of empty space, he dialed Yami's number.

"It's Yuugi!" the voice on the other end shouted. "I'm holding Yami's phone for him! Where are you?!" The current song echoed over the phone, so they were still nearby.

"Trying to find you all!" Mokuba said. "Where are  _you_?"

"Back left side of the dance floor!"

"Fuck! I'm on the opposite side! Alright, I'm coming!"

"That's what she said!" Yuugi exclaimed over the music, and a laugh sounded out before the call ended.

Mokuba tried to let the crowd carry him over to the other end. When he reached them at last he found that the whole gang was there. A wooden platform wound its way around the edges of the room, and they had reserved a small section for themselves to sit and chat.

Jounouchi and the rest had arrived long before them; he could clearly smell alcohol on them. 

Yuugi was further away from them at the edge of the main crowd, dancing between two women he didn't know.  _Not expecting that._ Anzu bounced on her heels between Jounouchi and Honda, looking a bit sheepish but like she was still having a bit of fun. It was always great seeing them again.

Yami was there too, being surprisingly reclusive. He sat on the edge of the platform, looking rather pensive. With the temperature steadily climbing, Mokuba removed his jacket and sat down.

"Everything okay?"

The current song ended and a few people nearby wound down for a break - their group suddenly had a bit more space to spread out. Jounouchi and Honda interjected with hugs and greetings. Anzu said hello giggling nervously, and he couldn't tell if she'd had something to drink or nothing at all. She wore a bright red dress, looking a little more curvaceous than usual. It was a little hard to keep from watching her.

Yuugi was still at a distance, talking to those girls from before. Mokuba watched one of them walk away while the other continued, standing close.

Mokuba greeted everyone and made small talk about being back and being surprised at Yuugi and about the music. It worked pretty well. Jounouchi seemed particularly interested in knowing what was playing. He worked a few jobs in the area and he talked about recognizing some of the more popular songs.

By the time that they'd taken a rest and were ready to go back to dancing, Yami got up to mill through the crowd back the way they came. 

Anzu asked him to dance, and he was right - she was really nervous, pretty much just rocking to the beat, and didn't get too close. She nearly jumped when he slipped an arm around her back to pull her closer so that she could hear him. 

"You know, Anzu," he said, "the point of dancing is supposed to be to have fun. I know that you do ballet so this is a bit different, but just ...you know, be yourself."

She blushed - or maybe that was a strobe light?

"I'm sorry. I'm not really good at club dancing. I can move, but I don't really want to look like a... slut or something." Her last few words came out as a frail giggle and although he could see her shoulders shaking the sound was lost in the music. He still couldn't tell if was drunk or not.

"Club dancing?" Mokuba said. He took her hand and a step back, and she let him lead her into a twirl. She laughed but followed him through.

In the corner of his eye, he could see Honda and Jounouchi straining to hear them.

"There's no such thing as 'club dancing'. Just feel the beat and move whatever way feels natural. You could do a pirouette if you wanted to. Splits. A cabbage patch." That last reference might be too American. "You can't look stupid in a club like this - they're all drunk anyway!" From his experience, any club where the patrons wore costumes was usually safe. It was hard to be embarrassed standing next to someone dressed in goth lolita. If everyone else could be bold it was easier to ride that energy.

"...okay," she said, and she took a dainty step forward on her toes, turning a complete three hundred and sixty degrees. The whole thing was pretty fluid.

"If it ends up being that hard, you could always go drink so that you don't care about who's watching you!" Jounouchi and Honda laughed from their place nearby.

That seemed to be the encouragement she needed. 

Suddenly, Yuugi was back. "Where'd Yami go?"

He specifically asked Mokuba, then seemed to catch himself. As though he realized what he'd done, he whispered an almost silent, " _...guys..._?" I

"Probably a drink," Honda said. "He looked kind of upset. Something going on?" Mokuba sighed in relief. At least he wasn't the only person here concerned.  

"I don't think so," Yuugi answered. Then he smiled. "Mokuba? Do you think you could go look for him?" That grin was sweet-as-pie, and Mokuba thought he might contract a cavity just from making eye-contact.

Did he have to be so obvious? "Sure."

He took a moment to straighten shirt before plunging into the crowd.

 _What if Yuugi knows what's wrong with him?_ That was, of course, assuming that there was a problem. 

Yami wasn't hiding. Those bright blond bangs were pretty easy to spot from a distance. He was in a corner of the bar, nursing something that looked like a Gin and Tonic (the Lime on the side was a giveaway). Turned toward the entrance, he seemed to be listening intently, nodding along. People swarmed the bar and it was hard to get a clear line of sight. Yami put his drink down and leaned close, whispering secretively to--

To a person that Mokuba had never thought he'd ever see again. At first, he was sure that he was mistaken.

_T_ _hat doesn't make any sense. Why would he be here?_

But there was no way Mokuba wouldn't recognize that horrendous, attention grabbing hoodie; he would never forget seeing that Millennium Item, tucked into the same belt loop it had been in a decade ago when they last saw each other.

It was Marik Ishtar, dressed in his usual getup, pale hair sticking up in all directions. The curve of his cheek suggested that he was smiling, and Yami chuckled over his drink.

The disgust that Mokuba could feel creeping up onto his face had to be handled.

His memories of Marik were unpleasant, despite the good note on which he seemed to have left Domino. Being possessed, or whatever issue his family had been dealing with during the Battle City Tournament had scared the living shit out of Mokuba. What was he doing back in the city? 

Nothing good could come from his interrupting their conversation. Words caught in his throat, and he couldn't arrange his thoughts properly So instead he turned away to go back to the dance floor.  _Do it right or not at all._

Mokuba stopped in the crowd and took a deep breath; he overreacted. The past was already sorted. Marik hadn't done anything in the last several years. 

He glanced back one last time. Deep down, still hoped that he'd been seeing things, that there was another person in that crazy club that looked just like Marik but wasn't.

They were both standing now, facing his end of the basement. Yami scanned the crowd, spotted him, recognized him and settled attention on him.

Mokuba didn't expected to be noticed. What would he do now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 12/12/18 - I definitely trimmed fat on this. DEFINITELY. There were a lot of cool details that didn't need to be here and didn't contribute anything, or that were confusing and didn't work the way I wanted. I still think the end is kinda struggle here, but I'm going to roll with it because this is a lot better than before.
> 
> 2/25/15: I edited this a bit, fleshed out some stuff and reworded a few things. It's still basically the same, though I'd like to think it's a little easier to follow.
> 
> This is prompt #2.


	10. Cherries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You said something interesting. And if I'm going to talk about it, I'll need a few drinks."

"It's a shot," Mokuba said, and he made the break.

Balls scattered but none of them made it into the pockets. Yami chuckled at him - Mokuba had said that he wasn't great at pool but he wasn't _that_ bad, after all.

"I'm actually surprised that you've never had it before. It seems like you drink a lot."

Yami shrugged. He surveyed the table for a good angle. A few opportunities offered the temptation of a ricochet.

He _did_ drink a lot. But he didn't try very many new things outside of what he was recommended, or shit he already knew was good; he said as much.

"Anyway," Mokuba replied, "it tastes good but I know a lot of people who don't like cherry flavor."

Yami made for number seven, which sat next to number ten in the top left pocket. As soon as he made the shot, he felt that it wasn't precise enough; the cue ball was off, and the seven nicked the ten on its way to the pocket but didn't push it in. Oh, well - at least he had another turn. The ten went on on the second try.

"You buy it, I'll try it," he said.

The last week or so they hadn't seen each other at all; apparently Mokuba was representing KaibaCorp to some large potential client and had a lot of work to do.

The outing at _Writhe_ went over well enough. Mokuba both did and didn't want to be at home. Yami knew what that was like so for a change, they decided to go out.

"Good. I'll order it after I get my turn. Watching you, I don't think it'll be any time soon. Since when were you good at pool?" Mokuba smiled at him

Yami felt the flicker of one on his face too. There were plenty of things Mokuba didn't know about him. "I was taught by a drunk person at a bar once. I picked up a thing or two from the people around there." He went for number three in the middle of the table, pushed it but didn't make it in. "I know how to play, but that's about it."

"It's a little more than knowing how to play, I think. I've never had the hand for it." Mokuba's grip was good and solid, though. He just didn't have the hang of using a specific amount of force. It was something that had to be practiced often or it was easily forgotten. Muscle memory. "But you're better than anyone I've seen. I suppose that's why they call you the King of Games?"

None of the balls were in a convenient position, and Mokuba didn't hit anything at all. Yami watched for an opening.

"I'll go get it."

That hadn't occurred to him at this point - that his skill at games was attributed to picking up pool so quickly. He'd been out of Yuugi's body and out of danger that sometimes that summer felt like a dream. A frown flickered on his face. Yami had to put that thought out of his mind; it cheapened the achievement.

It was his turn while Mokuba got up to get the jelly shot. But his mind soon turned to other things.

Like Mokuba's silence concerning Marik's presence in Domino. Yami saw the look on his face at the club. For a split second it was nothing short of absolute terror.

He wasn't sure exactly what had happened between the two of them for Marik's appearance to get that sort of reaction, but he had a feeling that it was a bit beyond anything he could think of. Mokuba had actually looked _terrified_. What was worse was that Mokuba had never mentioned it, never brought it up.

He positioned himself for another attempt on the table, poised over the edge to make sure he had more control. Yami's gusto was gone, after what Mokuba said, but he would stick it out anyway. There was liquor coming so he wouldn't complain.

Yami aimed for number four, lined up with number twelve near the middle left pocket. He could get them both if he just shifted a bit more to the right to hit that number nine—

"Well, look what we have here," he heard in playful tones above him. Yami felt hips press against his ass, although he didn't turn around or answer. Instead he adjusted ever so slightly, made both in and felt a bit better about himself before he turned to give Mokuba his attention.

"Is that a proposition?"

"Maybe, if you keep bending over on the table like that. Here." The shot glass was fairly small, and Yami gulped it down in one go before handing it back. The alcohol burned down his throat with a smooth but flavored kick. It wasn't bad. The cherry flavor clung to his tongue and spread around his mouth. It was pretty strong.

"Dammit, Yami; you didn't even wait to see what was in it."

"Vodka?"

"Rum," Mokuba said, and sighed. "Did you even like it?"

"What I tasted, yeah; I wouldn't say no to another. Seems good for building a buzz. Kind of like candy." He was used to doing harder stuff.

"Want mine?"

Yami tutted. "I could probably down five of those. Don't tempt me." It wasn't often that Yami got himself drunk as of late, but he tended to become a bit ... _easy_ when he did. He already had the upper hand, having seen Mokuba make a fool of himself. The reverse wasn't necessary.

Mokuba shrugged, took his shot and sat both empty glasses on the edge of the table. "I won't. You've seen me plastered. Didn't do any good."

"I got laid; that was good enough."

"Yeah, and I got a massive hangover. Oh, and I got to throw up in a bathroom in a place I can't even remember."

"I could take you back there," Yami joked. "You seemed to like the sake."

"No thanks," Mokuba said. He looked at the table. "It's still your turn."

"I know," Yami said, and went to the other side of the table to aim for the next pocket. The next turns were quiet. Mokuba went back up to the bar and got them both another shot each, which was fine with him. Most of it was gelatin anyway. The burn was good but there was more bark than bite.

"Doing anything the rest of the week?" Yami tried to start another conversation. He missed the next shot; didn't use enough power to push it in. It'd be easy for Mokuba to make it.

"Just work. I'm thinking about getting in contact with some of my old friends from the states online. I've been texting them and stuff, but it's just not the same, I guess."

"Do you miss them?"

Yami hadn't put much thought into the fact that Mokuba had returned from the 'States. It was certainly an interesting experience to have gone through, he was sure. Mokuba seemed annoyed by some of the questions Yuugi and Gramps had asked when he first returned, though, so Yami had pinned it as a taboo subject.

"Of course I do. That's my life, there. I mean—I've had a lot of time with Seto—and I mean _a lot_ , but... I was out on my own, growing up and stuff - all on my own, without him. I found myself there. I know who I am because I lived there. It's like ...sometimes it's like, I'm just visiting Domino, and New York is where my home really is. I know that's really weird."

Any subject involving the idea of home was hard for him. He felt similarly about Egypt and everything related to it. It was difficult knowing that he had been born and raised there because it was so far away. Even his memories were distant. They weren't quite his anymore.

He had been with Yuugi for such a long time that everything in his past was foreign. The _Kame Game Shop_ was his home. Domino was home. He had seen and heard and touched and tasted Domino for years and anything beyond it was simply alien.

But that didn't mean there weren't some skeletons in that closet of feelings. Those emotions stirred in him now, and for once, he felt the urge to speak on them. It wasn't every day that someone who could relate to those relics came along.

"Can you get me another shot? I want to loosen myself up. Ah—make it two more."

The decision was made without thinking. He'd need some courage; Yami was the first to tell anyone that he was bad at discussing himself in contexts like these.

"I thought you didn't want to get drunk." Mokuba made a face.

"I don't, but... you said something interesting. And if I'm going to talk about it, I'll need a few drinks."

Mokuba took a nervous step back. "I'm not trying to make you talk about—"

"I know. But you shouldn't have to tip-toe around things either."

"You shouldn't have to drink to talk to me about anything." Mokuba sounded offended.

Yami shrugged. "Well, that's the way it is. You're always asking questions, so I'm sure it would come up eventually. Do you want my thoughts or not?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 12/27/18 - I cleaned this up, made it a bit smoother, but the content is mostly the same. I cut some unnecessary stuff from this too.
> 
> 7/8/12 - added a bit so that it wasn't so abrupt, and spaced the paragraphs a lot more.
> 
> This was prompt #37.


	11. Oil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He hated his job.

Mokuba loved the feeling of being on his bike. The rush of speed going straight to his head gave him a type of euphoria that driving a car never could. He was unrestricted by lanes and in full control of his pace. Even a simple ride home could become a profound experience. After getting off of his bike Mokuba was sure that he could do anything.

But today he reminisced.

He missed times in college when he could go out and roam. No class, no work, just taking a stroll under the sky in the middle of the day. He could stop and study outside, weather permitting, or take a walk with someone he liked. There was something about being out and in the open that was invigorating.

It was truly freeing, living without the burden of work and responsibility. To focus on learning and acquiring knowledge almost exclusively made his school years some of the best of his life.

Work at KaibaCorp absorbed copious amounts of energy. Dealing with people who demanded and pushed was draining; it was difficult keeping work at work, and from seeping into other things.

At first he was tempted to just do his work from home. But Mokuba remembered all the nights he'd spent alone as a kid while Seto toiled in his office, only doors away. It was only after he started high school that he realized that Seto didn't  _have_  to do work. More often than not, Seto did other people's work, and encouraged him to do the same as well.

That haunting visage of his brother, powerless to his own whims of perfection, kept Mokuba from following the same path.

If he were honest (and he rarely was, concerning this topic) KC wasn't his ideal choice of career. He had the experience for it, and education as of recently, but he just didn't enjoy it. Sure, their technology was versatile. Seto constantly denied rights and turned down collaborations in an effort to avoid slipping into what Gozaboro did - just selling to the highest bidder. And that was ethical, and admirable.

But Mokuba didn't really feel any pride in it.

It wasn't him in the testing room, theorizing methods of light refraction to produce maximum clarity for hologram visuals; it wasn't him correcting issues with coding or issuing patches to fix them. Mokuba loved programming. The sciences were a little more distant to him, but he was always excited to learn new things. He loved theory. But Seto refused to allow him to participate in anything related to research and development. That was work for peons, apparently. They followed orders, they tested and they produced.

Mokuba and his brother were only to step in when someone was fucking up. Because unlike most CEOs, Seto knew what the fuck he was doing.

But that left Mokuba as the man who just pushed the paperwork. He reviewed reports and explanations and made them easier for their clients to digest. Comprehension was fine so long as he didn't do the dirty work himself. He sat with the other representatives and ate dinner with them and pretended to be interested in the endeavors of their companies, when he wasn't even interested in what he was doing for his own. He and his brother spent time learning about the technology that went into their products and never used any of that knowledge except when something wasn't working right and no one else could figure it out.

It was a complete waste. He hated his job.

Someone honked at him. The light was green and he hadn't moved. He revved the engine before kicking off. The sound offered comfort.

_You're gonna kill someone. Stop being an idiot._

Above him the sky was orange and his bike reflected it. It was beautiful, and Mokuba decided that this time was something that he could control, and it wouldn't go to waste. He took a short detour down a lesser traveled alley way. A few blocks ahead, he could see tinted foliage lining the block.

 _Perfect. A park_. He could watch his bike, relax in silence and collect himself.

His phone rang out a text notification.

 _ **Got plans tonight?**_  It asked him.

Yami, of course. They'd gone out once or twice. At the time Mokuba hadn't realized how often Yami did, in fact, go out. He knew almost every place in a fifteen mile radius from the Game Shop. That was much too often for Mokuba's tastes; he outgrew those habits years ago, but it didn't seem Yami did.

 _Sorry, I don't feel like going out tonight,_  he texted back.

_**Feeling Shitty?** _

_A little._

He wanted to hint at needing the space without completely rejecting the opportunity; the man was a good distraction and it was likely he would want one later.

_**Fine.** _

He slipped his phone into his pocket, then stretched and climbed off of LaShonda. The park still had a few families playing around in it, and there were many more in the middle of packing up, or in the process of leaving already. Not too many people kept around after dark. Domino City Park was a bit larger than most, and it could hide quite a few things in the thick foliage when tricky minds were put to work there. There used to be rumors that street gangs met there at night, but Mokuba didn't know if it was true.

Several trails were trod deep into the ground until the grass yielded. They all passed through a children's playground in the first half of the park and disappeared into a small forest of trees. Mokuba picked one at random and just kept walking; he knew the park well enough. It wasn't so big that he would get lost.

His phone rang again. When he flipped it open, it asked him:

_**Bad day at work?** _

Mokuba wasn't sure how to answer that. So he didn't. He put the phone back in his pocket instead. The blanket of orange over him faded into a deeper hue; it would be dark sooner than he wanted.

Continuing into a small clearing he saw a silhouette ahead and off to the side. Someone else had the same idea, apparently: a girl with long hair by the looks of it. She stood next to an easel. A few people passed him on the trail, but Mokuba moved closer to her. She had long blond hair.

_A foreigner?_

He wasn't being secretive, and the grass wasn't tall enough to quiet his steps anyway. She turned when she heard him approach. Mokuba bowed respectfully and kept his distance.

_Definitely a foreigner._

He wasn't sure, exactly, how much more she could paint with the light fading. But she hadn't packed up yet, so she was clearly putting some finishing touches. Mokuba tried to make out the sharp shapes on the canvas, but with the shade from the trees in the small glade, no sense could be made of it.

"Excuse me," he proposed, making eye contact, "could I watch?"

To his surprise, she smiled, oval glasses glinting in what was left of the light outside. "Of course you can. It's almost done. I just need a few more minutes." Though her accent was clear, she spoke Japanese well enough.

"What is it?" he asked. Mokuba switched to English in his excitement.

She moved closer to the work itself, hands fiddling with something. Lights suddenly popped to life on her easel, illuminating most of the canvas.

Mokuba immediately recognize the subject of her painting. Those angled shapes, striking blends of violets and reds, offset by a bright blond.

 _Yami?_  He gasped, eyes scanning the details.

No. It was a portrait of  _Yuugi_ , of all people. The differences were there: his eyes were a softer shape, less intense. Though shadows from the lights were too bright at the base of the painting, Mokuba could see that the angled jaw wasn't set, instead curved by a cheery smile. It was most certainly Yuugi's.

It was a great interpretation of him, honestly.

Mokuba didn't recognize the painter.  _How does she know him?_

"You're American?" she asked in English as well. Mokuba shook his head. "Oh, well. Your English is really good. It's not a breathtaking piece of art," she added, "but I've been thinking a lot about this person lately. You have to admit - as a subject he at least has an interesting hairstyle." A giggle followed.

Maybe she was a fan? Yuugi was a well known duelist. "It—it's nicely done. Whoever it is, he's lucky to have such a talented girl paint him."

"It's still not done," she said. Her voice carried a happy hum and she seemed oblivious to his surprise. "There are some details that I want to add, but there won't be enough light. I'll have to come back tomorrow. I was hoping these would help," she gestured to the lights, "but now that I've seen them in action, I think that they might distort the colors. I don't want to mix the wrong ones. It's been going great so far."

This certainly was a strange girl. Mokuba didn't remember seeing her at the club the other day, and Yuugi hadn't mentioned an American girl at all. Her cheer didn't make this any less off-putting.

"You can't finish it at home?" he asked.

She shook her head and dabbed carefully at Yuugi's eyes with a shade of lavender, brush daring to and fro to highlight his eyes. Mokuba didn't know a lot about the arts, but the color she picked worked well. He watched the tiny glob of paint swirl on the brush, the canvas, and blend in with the other hues.

"I can only paint in the park. It's weird. I feel calm here, though, so I guess it's alright." Shaking her head again, she added. "That's as much as I'll add, I think. I don't trust the light." She looked up at the darkening sky, and suddenly turned towards him. "I'm going to get ready to go, I guess. I'm sorry you came all the way over here and didn't see much."

Mokuba waved it off. "No, I'm sorry I bothered you. I shouldn't have. It was rude of me."

"Don't be silly," she said, and she crouched down to grab a cloth sitting atop a backpack, using it to clear the surface of her palette before slipping it into her bag. "I'm the one being strange."

"Are you going to be back tomorrow?" he asked.

His phone chimed again, and he felt the vibration this time against his leg. The girl's movements stuttered as she noticed it, too, but she continued packing as though it was nothing.

It was Yami again.  _ **You can't even answer? Fuck off**_ , it said.

He slipped it back into his pocket without a second thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 12/27/18 - Just did some clean up. There wasn't much to change, but I did take out some unnecessary stuff.
> 
> 2/26/15 - I made quite a few changes, but none of them affect the content if you're read this already. I broke up some of those chunky paragraphs and described some of the surroundings a little more. Original commentary below.
> 
> This is prompt #12.


	12. Sluts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You know that I'd treat you. You're The Pharaoh. Who wouldn't?"

Yuugi decided to sleep in before the afternoon rush, so Yami watched the shop.

Normally he had Saturdays off since he covered while Yuugi was in class. But today there wasn't anything better to do really. He wasn't in the mood to engage in the usual self-destruction: bars and the like. It made more sense to be useful and keep himself out of trouble.

Today's task was to make a dent in a book during downtime. This was one he'd picked up at a shop on the nearby campus. He usually tried to stay away from anything pointing to Egypt, but this novel had ensnared him. Luckily, it concerned Egypt in the present. There was no need for him to worry about being reminded of unpleasant things. The country was quite a different place and it was interesting to learn more about it.

Early mornings were often slow, since students were still in school and people outside bustled to work. Not many people had time to stop by a card shop. Some days, with the traffic outside, Yami got the sense that the whole city was running late. One of their regulars came in to buy a few booster packs, but that was quick, an in-and-out sort of deal that barely interrupted him from page to page.

Around ten-thirty, Marik Ishtar walked in. There was no mistaking that signature lavender hoodie. His hands were tucked into the pockets and he waltzed in like he owned the place.

"How's a cutie like you still working here?" Marik winked at him.

Yami smiled back. "Why would I be anywhere else?" Carefully, he placed a plain, blue bookmark between the pages of his novel before setting it to the side. He moved from behind the counter to offer a hug.

The Millennium Rod, still tucked into Marik's belt, brushed against him as they embraced. Yami bristled, and tried to resist the urge to frown.

"What are you doing here?"

"Ishizu's got some business to take care of so I tagged along. Rishid's watching the home-front for us, great guy that he is." Marik rolled his eyes. "How have you been holding up? I've been gone for a long time. You okay?"

This song and dance was familiar, but Yami wasn't much in the mood to follow along.

They could skip flirting shamelessly with each other this time around so far as he was concerned. "I'm fine."

Marik was all fire and passion and despite his best interests Yami still sometimes found that sort of charm hard to resist. The two of them dated, once. Though they split on good terms, it was not necessarily the desired outcome.

Once every blue moon, Marik would test the waters and if Yami was caught at the right time, sometimes he would ...acquiesce. For a short time. Habits were hard to break, and during dry periods Marik was undeniably a better option than a stranger.

Not today, though. Yami was neither wanting nor suffering.

They both sized each other up, searched for what their eyes couldn't see, gauging how their distance from each other affected each other over time. Marik seemed the same: caring, casual, serious when the mood struck him - and sexy, though that was probably the point. Yami was sure that there was nothing he would have liked more than to retreat to the back for a quickie.

Too bad.  _I'm quite satiated, thank you._

"You?"

"Busy," Marik answered, smiling back. He didn't hide his greedy gaze, though, taking in much more than a healthy look. It lingered distastefully. Yami decided to take it as a compliment.

"Your tomb—well, it's not yours anymore, technically—is still racking up viewers. You'd be surprised how many tourists want to know how I waste my days slaving to keep your stuff from crumbling to ashes in the wind. And we've gotten quite a few offers from Museums. But we've refused. We get enough showing off tablets and knives, cups and ridiculous things. People eat that stuff up. Especially Westerners."

And that was the problem with Marik's visits.

 _Everything_  was about Egypt when they were together. It was most of what Marik knew, and he wanted to share that knowledge with the person it should have mattered to the most. But the Items served as treasures enough. Most of the things the Ishtars kept were so eroded that they no longer qualified as nostalgic; the country was now just as foreign as if Yami had never lived there. There was little use he could get from any of those things.

"...thanks for...keeping it safe?" he answered awkwardly.

Marik's cheeks tinged pink. "...I got a bit carried away, didn't I?"

He always did, but it made no difference in the end. Playing coy wasn't going to convince Yami to feel any differently about it.

"It's fine. You can do whatever you want with those things. They haven't been mine for quite some time. As you can see, the Gods have seen fit to grace me with this vessel." He pointed to himself in a sweeping gesture.

Marik frowned. "They're still yours, new vessel or not. I want you to come to see them at some point. You're the only person I'd let touch them with your bare hands."

Yami returned to his place behind the counter without another word. Marik had hounded him for years about it, taken him to Egypt even. But the idea was gut wrenching and painful. He wanted no part of it.

So he tried to change the subject. "Got plans for today?"

"Yami, I do want you to go see them." Control of the conversation wouldn't be so easily won, apparently.

"Marik, I don't even have the money to—"

Those lavender eyes widened, nostrils flared. Marik was offended. "You know that I'd treat you. You're  _The Pharaoh_. Who wouldn't?"

"I  _was_  the Pharaoh. I'm not anymore."

This was something that they squabbled about often. It was why Yami did his best to avoid the subject altogether. Having been distanced from his past for so long, and in different ways, it was not as easy to assimilate himself into that identity as Marik seemed to think.

"Don't tell me you've gone back to  _that!_ " Marik leaned over the counter. Yami shot him a warning glance, and received a sigh in response. "Don't fret about those things. You are who you are. All of it."

Yami scoffed, picked up his book and opened it again. Their faces were much too close, and he wedged the pages between them as a shield. "I bet Egypt is treating you nicely, then; you're such an optimist now."

Marik peered over the edge of the novel, hovering over the glass. "I've always been an optimist when it comes to you."

"Subject change," he demanded. "Now. And get off of the counter."

"Fine, you old coot." Marik digressed. "I need you to tell me what you were doing in  _Writhe_. I didn't think you still went there."

This was better. "I go to all the old hangouts. The ones still open, anyway. Yuugi and the others were there, too, but you didn't stay long enough to see them."

"Yeah, I was on my way out. I'm lucky I caught you. It's okay. I'll make sure to crash next time you all do something. I usually go once whenever I'm in town." Marik still leaned on the glass, but Yami didn't stop him. "And? You said you found a boyfriend?" He wriggled his eyebrows and flashed a cheeky grin.

"I  _said_  that I was seeing someone. Mokuba."

Marik gaped for a second or two before guessing, "Kaiba?"

He felt better, having caused a bit of a shock. "Yes." Having the upper hand in conversation with Marik was nearly priceless.

"How  _old_  is he?"

Strangely enough, Yami had never considered Mokuba's age a problem. But then again, he didn't consider the body he was in to be particularly old, either. Mokuba was certainly older than some of the other ...people he'd met in clubs around Domino. He tried to recall how many years younger Mokuba was than Yuugi, but couldn't come up with an answer.

_Whatever._

"Never asked him, actually. He's old enough."

Marik's response was an expression filled with doubt, followed by a mischievous smirk. "Still smoke?"

"Yep." That wasn't likely to stop soon.

It was a habit that Marik had always hated, so Yami wasn't surprised to hear, "Yuck. Disgusting."

"Never stopped you before."

That much was true. And if Yami remembered correctly, Marik  _did_  occasionally smoke hookah. "I hate the smell. And the taste. Does Kaiba complain?"

"You scared the shit out of him, by the way. And no - he smokes too."

"Ew. You should date someone more constructive to your character."

 _Like you?_  Yami snapped mentally.

He decided not to say it. Instead he told the truth. "We're not dating."

"Seeing, dating, sexing - it's all the same thing. You have a partner. Deal with it." Marik laughed. "You're always so touchy about words, Yami."

This was also something that they argued over before, titles and things. Yami didn't see their importance, but acknowledgment was important to Marik. "I'd prefer if you didn't use the wrong ones, yes."

"I scared him? Why?"

"No clue. I saw it, though. Didn't need The Puzzle to see it." Mokuba hadn't said a word about it after, but the expression spoke for itself. So did the fact that Mokuba turned tail more quickly than a leaf in the wind. Yami wanted to inquire about it, but with everyone present it was difficult.

And he didn't go home with Mokuba afterwards. That in itself was a sign.

"Hm..." Marik seemed to think for a moment, then he shook his head. "So! Do you feel like going out to dinner with me tonight?"

"Not sure," Yami answered. He sent Mokuba a text. No matter how hot Marik may have been, he wasn't passing up an opportunity if there was one.

"Permission?" Marik asked.

"No. Just checking to see if he's going to be at work late. If he really wants to meet up I'll have to turn you down."

"The little squirt outranks me?" An arm stretched dramatically to cover Marik's forehead.

"You'll be fine. Worst case, we can go tomorrow."

"I'm good with that. You can invite him, if you want."

Considering his reaction at club, that didn't seem like a good idea. "I don't think so."

"Psh. You just want all of this sexy Egyptian to yourself."

Yami chuckled at him.

Marik prattled on for a while about the responses of museums to his family's artifacts; Yami found himself impressed by the interest level that his old things seemed to inspire in tourists. There was a small part of him that hoped people would eventually acknowledge their feats, but it was unlikely. Marik got the hint after a while and asked about the book—and was familiar with it, to his surprise.

It was almost half past noon before he got a response via text. Mokuba wanted to go to the movies.

The door jingled again, and Yami made a casual scramble to look like he was doing something besides making dinner plans with his ex.

Seto Kaiba entered the Kame Game Shop.

The building as a whole seemed to want hide from its newest guest. Suddenly it was so quiet that Yami was sure it would start ringing in his ears. The door echoed when it shut. Marik stopped talking mid-thought, and shuffled behind the counter to stand next to him. Blue eyes swept the shop to confirm it was empty before Kaiba took another step inside.

 _Not a good sign._ Yami would rather do what they usually did: appraise each other for a few minutes until Kaiba called out some sort of challenge. But this didn't feel like one of those occasions. Kaiba was a customer.

"Welcome to the Kame Game Shop. How may I help you?" He really didn't want to have Sugoroku fussing at him about being rude.

Marik snickered.

A wide stride brought them close in just a few steps. Kaiba nodded. "Yami." Mostly likely, he wanted something and Yami was in the way. It was typical fare for the two of them.

But Kaiba seemed content to look around idly at the shop's wares instead of continuing the conversation. With every second that passed, Yami felt the itch to speed off toward some task. Did he want them to order some rare card? Was he looking for a list of local up and coming players? The silence crawled under his skin.

"May I... help you?" Yami asked, trying to speed this process along.

The clock on the register showed that it was nearly one o'clock. Yuugi was due back any moment, and if he made it fast enough all of this would stop being Yami's problem altogether. Dealing with Seto Kaiba wasn't really on his to-do list for the day.

Kaiba crossed his arms and finally brought Yami under his gaze. "I want to talk to you, if that isn't already obvious."

That was always the problem with Kaiba. He was quick to assume that everything happening on his time. Not everyone was on the KaibaCorp payroll.

"Are you doing to do it today?" Yami grumbled, and tapped the glass counter impatiently. His book stayed open on the counter, and he peeked at it in the interim.

He didn't like this. Kaiba wasn't a person that he saw often, and this encounter chafed against his other memories of the two of in confrontation. Yami didn't like being reminded of the past, or his own for that matter. Talking to Kaiba was much easier when they were dueling or arguing, when there weren't gaps or pauses and moments where he could remember Set. These people weren't the same, but they were similar enough for echoes of one another to overlap in silences.

Those echoes touched parts of Yami that weren't quite  _him_ , either. Some of his memories were Atem's, and he hated that about himself most of all.

Marik was oddly silent.

Kaiba cleared his throat. "I wanted to..." That was also odd. This was not a man who entered a place unprepared.

 _Oh._ Just those few seconds were enough to offer Yami relief. There were only a few things that could make Kaiba hesitate or falter, and he wouldn't need three guesses to figure out which of those things brought him to the shop without a solid objective.

So he took the reigns of things, closed his book and slid it a few feet away and behind the register. "Look, it's obvious why you're here. So why don't we make this easy?" This was something he could deal with.

More than anything else Kaiba seemed offended. Yami wasn't sure if that was because he hadn't been left to form the rest of his thought, or simply being called out; it didn't matter either way.

"I should've expected you," Yami said, "after seeing you outside the other day." And Mokuba had complained about it, too. Kaiba didn't know how to keep his nose where it didn't belong.

Maybe it would be cute if it wasn't Kaiba. Yami was protective of Yuugi in a similar manner.

"I get it. You care about your brother even if you don't really know what to do with him. But I'm going to make your job easier by telling you that you don't have to worry about me. That's all you and him - you both have to work that out."

They would have to find some other scapegoat to explain how things broke down between them. Yami leaned his elbows on the counter, inspected some non-existent dust on his hands.

When Kaiba opened his mouth to speak again, it was with the air of conviction and certainty that he usually had. There was no hesitation this time.

"So we have an understanding, then?"

But Yami wasn't going to let him get away with that. "No. Mokuba and  _I_   have an understanding. I'm just playing nice." Kaiba thought he could just fly into his shop, give a stare down and consider himself to have the upper hand?

 _Fuck that._  Yami retrieved his book and began to search for where he'd left off.

Kaiba stepped closer to the counter, almost leaning over. His shadow crept over the surface. Yami resisted the urge to make eye contact. Kaiba didn't deserve the satisfaction.

"And what exactly  _is_  that understanding, then?"

"What kind of question is that?" Marik snickered, the first sound he'd made in several minutes. Yami glared at him. 

To Kaiba, he answered, "I don't think that's any of your business."

"I think it is, if it involves you distracting him from work and standing me up for dinner."

The absurdity of this exchange wasn't lost on him. Although, in hindsight, it occurred to Yami that this was something he should have counted on dealing with early on. There was no Mokuba without his big brother standing guard, and this wasn't much different. It was a little easier ignoring Kaiba when the man wasn't standing in the middle of his shop. 

"Look, that's his call. Don't throw that shit on me. I'm not going to take it."

"You are the common denominator," Kaiba said. "He's done very little of much else since he's come back besides date  _you_ —"

"Oh  _no._ " Yami shook his head. "I don't do dates. So if he's standing you up, it's definitely got nothing to do with me. I'm not his boyfriend."

That revelation, if Kaiba's face was anything to go by, hit pretty hard. His eyebrows were up, arms crossed, frown somehow etched deeper into his jaw. "So you're wasting his time."

Marik laughed. "Can't be a waste of time if he's enjoying it, really. What does it look like they're doing?" 

Between the two of them Yami's nerves were growing thin. So he shrugged, tried to push the situation hard enough to make it roll off of his shoulders.

"Like I said," Yami repeated, "I don't have anything to do with that. Why don't you go talk to Mokuba?"

"As the person involved with my brother, I have the right to ask either of you."

 _Well, I know exactly where he can put those fucking questions._ "No, actually—"

"He does have a point there," Marik interrupted again, grinning. "After all, you are kind of banging his brother. Not saying that you have to answer or anything - but he can ask, at least." It was quite obvious that he was enjoying his own commentary. "I think I answered quite a few questions back when it was you and me, actually. Just saying."

Kaiba seemed unsure of what to do with that information overall. But he shifted his pose, lips snapping up into an almost-smirk. After several seconds, it became obvious that he was waiting for a revised response.

Yami considered whether he needed to punch his friend in the throat.

"Mokuba and I aren't in a relationship together. That's it," he managed. "And honestly, if we were, I could see why he'd hide it anyway."

That brought Kaiba down a bit. He sneered. "..."

"It's not that complicated. What  _is_ complicated, though, is you barging in here waiving your KaibaCorp cock around, thinking that everyone has to answer your questions for you. I respect you and all - great duelist. Dedicated older brother. Whatever. But I'm not Yuugi. I'm not going to lay down and take your shit. You and Mokuba have enough of your own issues without you trying to take them out on me."

Bullseye. Kaiba's eyes narrowed. "Our affairs are none of your concern."

Yami couldn't help but laugh. There was no way he was going to let Kaiba get away with that. Not after having a perfectly good day turned to shit for no good reason.

"Well, according to you, it doesn't take much to make it your job to cram up someone else's ass for answers. So why don't I, Kaiba? Maybe I should ask why I have to listen so he doesn't have to feel like a piece of shit after work every day. Being an emotional support for someone sucks. You should try it sometime. I never made my time with Mokuba your business. You wouldn't have even known about it if you weren't so—"

"He talks to you about me?" A few scathing words weren't enough to stop the Kaiba resolve, apparently.

"Yikes," Marik whispered.

"What the fuck else does he have going for him here besides you?"

That might've been a hair too far, but Kaiba wasn't the brightest bulb in the room, clearly.

So Yami added instead, "All of his friends are in the U.S."

The silence that followed, and the laser concentration with which Kaiba studied his face for the next few seconds made a few things clear. But this wasn't his problem to solve. Yami was not the person to claw at for information, and certainly not in the manner which Kaiba had gone about doing it. 

Yami decided that this conversation was nearing its last leg. He didn't have much more to offer and more importantly, he shouldn't even have to. "This isn't a forum. I'm only being nice. I'm not your one stop shop for info about Mokuba." And it wasn't as though he knew much more than anyone else, regardless.

He really wanted to get back to his book.

"Yami?" A new voice called from the stairs.

 _Yuugi, finally_. Lovely.

His shift was officially over, and he knew it showed. Yami beamed, voice coated in sudden gratitude. "Yes?" 

Marik turned and waved.

Yuugi revealed himself, stepped out from the staircase in the back of the shop that led to their flat. His bright eyes immediately scanned the room. The shock of him realizing Kaiba's presence was amusing, but Yami didn't have the heart to laugh.

"Oh," Yuugi added. He smiled anyway and asked, "Were you able to help him? What did you need, Seto?"

Kaiba gave some sort of acknowledging grunt, his body tense. He averted his gaze to the counter rather than watch the two of them interact.

"He's not buying," Marik pointed out. "He's asking questions about Mokuba."

Yuugi pouted.

"Shame on you, Kaiba. If you have any questions about Mokuba, you should ask him. Is he in some kind of trouble?" Sometimes it amazed Yami how easily Yuugi could gather things up and get to the heart of them. If there wasn't any sort of emergency, Kaiba shouldn't have bothered. 

Not that any of this was his concern anymore. "You're taking over?"

"Yep," Yuugi chuckled, and then turned his attention to Marik. "How long are you going to be in town? I didn't know you'd be here! Yami told me he saw you, but..."

"I'm with Ishizu while she runs some errands in town," Marik replied, "so I'm here as long as she's here."

Kaiba asked suddenly, "So you're just using him?"

It was enough to distract Yuugi for their current train of thought. "What?"

That was just enough buffer for Yami's laughter. He couldn't have been the only one to find this humorous. Really, Yami wasn't sure if he wanted to believe that this was actually happening. But Kaiba kept on with that cold stare, unwilling to take a step back and try and think about how this looked. And it wasn't only Kaiba who seemed to be waiting. Both Marik and Yuugi simply watched.

"That's... quite a way to phrase a question." A few loose giggles followed. As funny as the situation might have been, it wasn't enough to change his answer. Kaiba wasn't going to get any more than he'd already gotten. "Everything about that is wrong. Wow."

"You're avoiding the question." Kaiba was tapping his foot on the floor now, and he seemed to be becoming annoyed. "You said you're not in a relationship with him. I just want you to say the rest. We both know it's true."

Yuugi's lips contorted into an 'o'.

"Well," Yami began. He gathered his things and moved away from the counter. "I've told you all you need to know, I think." A chuckle still bubbled on the edge of his lips, and it was one of the few things keeping him from giving Kaiba a piece of his mind.

"Are you going upstairs?" Marik again. His attention was no longer split. "Can I come? I haven't seen your room in forever! I bet it looks exactly the same."

And honestly, that seemed the best idea. Kaiba would only continue repeating his vague implications and Yami didn't have the patience for that. The only thing he seemed to understand was not being in control of the conversation. Apparently, it was up to Yami to continue to show that currently, he was not.

But Yuugi was more merciful. As Yami and Marik moved to the stairs, he addressed Kaiba directly.

"Seto, whatever Mokuba's got going on with Yami is their thing. Over-analyzing everything isn't going to help. I know it seems like Yami's being a bit uncooperative on the details, but maybe that means that they have a little more respect for each other's privacy than you're giving them credit for."

The air felt like it was being squeezed, and Yami paused on the stairs. He turned back to look and saw the glare, the set jaw. Would he have to make a dive for the counter? He would if necessary. Having an excuse to pound the shit out of Kaiba's face wouldn't be the worst part of his day.

"Listen, Kaiba..." he growled.

But a hand stretched out to signal silence. Kaiba shook his head. "I've heard everything that I've needed to hear."

Yuugi looked unhappy with that response. He frowned and circled the counter, equally as fearless as he looked Kaiba in the eye. "Seto." His voice took a scolding tone. "Jumping to conclusions will only make things worse. Isn't that what it's been doing so far? Maybe take some time to think about talking to Mokuba, okay?"

It was sound advice, and the best that Kaiba could hope to get at the moment. Yami remained poised on the steps behind the counter, waiting, and only resumed his trip upstairs after Kaiba turned on his heel to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 12/27/18 - Okay, so I definitely changed a lot of the dialogue here, mostly because it was too dramatic and a little more OOC than I wanted (idk, in my head there's sort of an 'allowable level' I suppose, and this chapter set my alarms off hard). In general I think the conversation reads a little smoother, especially from the point of view of Kaiba asking question and things.
> 
> I cut some extra stuff where I tried to stuff in extra context, too.
> 
> Mostly I'm trying to root out as much of the passive language as possible from these chapters as I go through them. It's definitely a crutch that I've relied on and I'm glad to be at the point where that's most of the problems that I have to fix.
> 
> 5/7/15 - I changed a lot of the dialogue and the details about what Yami's doing at the store while talking, etc. You're not missing much if you read this before in terms of content, but I think the conversation is smoother and ultimately makes more sense. Original commentary below.
> 
> The Yacoubian Building is a real novel by Alaa Al Aswany. I encourage you all to look it up and read it.
> 
> As far as the prompt for this, it's in the undertone rather than being expressed externally. I liked Yuugi in this, and I hope that there are more chapters with Yuugi in it later.
> 
> I would like to note, however, that I lost the second half of this installment quite some time ago. I was so devastated that I worked on other prompts - maybe about four or five, even - before I came back to this one for a second time to try to fix it. Sorry about the slow updates.
> 
> This is prompt #41.


	13. Leather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm not being a girl! I just don't want to look like crap!"

There was a time when they threw parties more often. Yuugi used to travel for Duel Monsters tournaments, Otogi put in a lot of work overseas to maintain his Dungeon Dice Monsters enterprise, and Ryou visited for holidays. Whenever someone had a room they'd call everyone up; thus a tradition was born. They would drink and chat and joke into the night, do much needed catching up and make good memories.

It was about time for some more of those.

"I didn't know if you were keeping it secret." Yuugi said suddenly. "It's been more than a month already."

"From who?"

Yami decided usual 'going out' outfit would be good enough. He skipped the sleeves and went for a nice vest that fit him snugly. So far as he was concerned, the fewer clothes, the better. Not many of them were away from Domino these days, but this time the invite came from Otogi; that meant drinks.

Yuugi stood next to him, leaned close so they could share the mirror. "Anyone." But he went a few steps further, smoothed down his lapel, picked at things that weren't there and turned to examine himself at every angle he could manage. "I just think it might be better to let everyone know. Remember how we found out about Marik?"

Yami didn't think he would ever forget. Marik showed up to movie night at Anzu's, bearing gifts for him. They hadn't seen each other for months, and the proper greeting for such an occasion involved quite a few kisses, even if he was crashing someone else's hangout. Dealing with the fallout was annoying; Yuugi was furious at the time, and while Marik apologized regret was not a word in his vocabulary.

 _It was nice,_  though, Yami mused. He never could quite decide if he was fond of that memory or not.

Yuugi sighed, fidgeting with his belt. "You're not going to drink a lot, are you?"

"Don't know."

But they both knew the answer. Things were more fun when everyone was drunk. Especially Yuugi.

"You shouldn't."

"We're not crashing in the room?"

"That's not the point."

And he knew it wasn't. Yami's history with drinking was rocky at best, at least so far as Yuugi was concerned. But tonight was supposed to be fun and he didn't want to spend the next half hour running down his list of benders with Yuugi. It wasn't going to change his decision and they both knew it.

"I shouldn't have to take the truck unless you're going to forget about me again." Yami pointed out instead. Not that he regretted how things turned out last time. Mokuba was worth it.

"That was an accident last time!"

"Sure it was," he teased.

Yuugi straightened his shirt for what Yami was sure had to be the seventeenth time.

"Yuugi, we're just hanging out with the gang. Stop fussing over yourself like a girl."

"I'm not being a girl!" Yuugi finally turned away from the mirror, pout hanging on his lips. "I just don't want to look like crap."

"Like anyone's going to care."

"Go suck it. You basically wear the same thing every time. I can't believe I used to wear that stuff."

"It's my usual get-up. There's nothing to fix if it works." Mokuba would either love it or he could fuck off.

"That's because it leaves nothing to the imagination," Yuugi's voice shook before it broke down into laughter. "I can see the outline of your dick from twenty feet away."

The idea of that was absurd. But Yami glanced in the mirror again just to make sure.

Yuugi chuckled. "Made you look."

"Whatever." He wasn't going to change.

Yami crossed the room to stand at the door. They'd both done enough preening.

"Besides, there's nothing wrong with feeling good about yourself. And it's not like I would mind."

"Are you ready? Can we go now?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 12/29/18 - I changed the diction in this a lot. I'm a big fan of sort of aloof language that Yami uses but I had to dial it back and away from the narrative. I think the frame is important for contrast in dialogue, and I feel that I was trying to do too many things at once here. There were a lot of overlapping ideas and I tried to consolidate the concepts a bit. Hopefully this reads a little better.
> 
> I also moved some of the dialogue and exposition around. I didn't change much at the core of it, though. Everything should feel the same if you read this before.
> 
> 5/8/15 - I mostly just fleshed out some of the descriptions and reorganized some of the dialogue. If you read this before, there's no need to go over it again.
> 
> I liked Yuugi's testiness here. I look forward to there being more of it. ^_^
> 
> This is prompt #8.


	14. Ring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...do I have to kiss guys?"

Otogi offered up his hotel room for everyone to stay in on one condition: they had to play either  _spin the bottle_  or  _truth-or-dare_. Apparently, he'd had fun playing both of these at a friend's house.

"I know enough about you for this to be juicy," he said.

They picked Marik up for the party and he thought it would also be fun. The rules seemed simple enough.

"Everyone's just going to gun for you Yami," Marik told him. "You've got the most secrets."

When they arrived, Otogi was the only on waiting in the lobby for them. "Wow. Just on time. I don't think that anyone else will be." They formed a small square off to the side so they could chat. He checked a watch for the time. "Do you guys want to go up to the room early and wait? You don't have to stand down here."

"Oh no, this is fine," Yuugi said. Yami nodded agreement and Marik shrugged.

Otogi made small talk with Yuugi about classes. The two talked for several minutes about the whats and whys and hows, graduation dates, difficult professors and such. Yami stayed quiet except when he was asked about working the shop. He was doing well enough that there wasn't much to report. Marik wandered in circles, exploring the lobby.

Mokuba showed up next, ten minutes later, in a simple T-shirt and jeans. Yami noticed that his hair was smoothed back into a ponytail. He was without the concealing leather jacket, toying with the ever-present loose strand of hair hanging on the left side of his face.

Yuugi, Yami and Otogi received texts at the same time. People were running late, as usual. Jou was on the way and so was Honda.

"What kind of snacks you got upstairs?" Mokuba asked. "I'm hungry."

Otogi laughed. "You don't think you've eaten enough? God you're tall."

Yuugi beamed proudly. "Right? He's all grown up and everything!"

The idea of listening to everyone prattle on about Mokuba wasn't the least bit appealing to him. Yami broke away from the circle of small talk to trail after Marik. He was further down the hall, head poked into a room filled with exercise equipment.

"Save me." Yami rolled his eyes. "They're talking about how tall he is."

Marik did a small spin to face him. "Yeah, people do that when you're tall." A few people passed through the hall, and Marik smiled brightly at them. "It's okay. We can stand outside and brood if you want."

"Really, Marik?"

"What? It's what you like to do. All we're missing is rain."

At least Marik could keep an interesting conversation. When they returned, Otogi was in the middle of detailing the circumstances of his visit. A break before traveling to work on some opportunities for his game. But he wrapped it up when they approached and seemed glad to have them back.

Mokuba watched them closely as they approached, and it occurred to Yami that having them in the same space might be a little difficult.

"Hello Mokuba," Marik said.

Yami watched Mokuba closely, saw his posture stiffen awkwardly. "Hello," Mokuba managed to reply. For what it was worth, there was no grating edge and his expression was still fairly slack.

"How are you?"

Fingers wound in long, black hair a bit more tightly than before. "Fine."

Yuugi's cellphone rung. Someone had to be nearby. When he answered, Jounouchi burst through the doors of the hotel with a familiar face in tow.

"Sorry I'm late guys! Ended up pickin' up an extra package to make this game thing more interestin'." He gestured behind him and Mai stepped up, heels clacking on the tile. She waved at them.

"Long time no see, babes," she said.

"Mai? Valentine?" Mokuba asked. His eyes flashed to her chest and Yami rolled his eyes.

"And who are you, stranger?"

Yuugi and Jounouchi shared a laugh.

"Have I changed that much?" Mokuba put a little work into looking disappointed, padding himself down as though to find some magically altered feature. "You don't remember me?"

Otogi and Marik joined in the laughter. Even Yami let loose a chuckle. When the two of them first ran into each other, about a month ago, he hadn't recognized Mokuba either.

_At least, not from the back._

Mai curled a finger under her chin, humming for a bit before she replied, "I'm really sorry, but I don't..."

"Hey guys!" Honda burst in behind her, jumping onto Jounouchi's back from behind and ruffling his hair. Everyone laughed and the woman at the front desk stared disapprovingly. Otogi seemed to swat at Honda for a few seconds, twisting and turning to try to get him off, and then gave up.

"That's Mokuba, babe," Jou chimed in.

Her eyes brightened with the revelation, and everyone laughed before taking a moment to greet each other. Yami himself received several hugs, including one from Yuugi simply 'just because'. For the most part, everyone gathered around Otogi, since he'd been absent for the longest amount of time.

"Marik, is that you?" Jounouchi asked cheekily. Honda finally slipped off of his back. "...what is  _he_ doing here?" It was subtle, but brown eyes glanced at Yami for just a second.

The last time that Marik took time to spend with everyone regularly was because the two of them were together. That was not the case this time, and Yami resisted the urge to roll his at the assumption.

"He's in town at the moment," Yuugi said, although that much was obvious. "We invited him." It was nice to have back up at least.

"I'm not after your souls, I promise," he said smiling. The joke earned him a few chuckles.

Yami patted him on the back. "See? This kitten's harmless." There was only one person missing. "Now where's Anzu?"

Otogi shook his head, talking over a quickly growing rabble of small talk. "That's everyone! Anzu's upstairs already - she's moving stuff around up there. Food and whatever."

They were all the way up on the 40th floor. The room was nice and spacious and had quite a view. It was more expensive looking than the simple lobby let on, and there were several roll-away beds scattered throughout.

Otogi planned well. "I tried to get enough beds for you all, but some of you might have to share. I managed to get six, and only really because I tipped housekeeping a little extra..."

There was a work desk in the corner, appropriated for holding food and drinks. Stacked in the middle were several boxes of pizza. Anzu had the alcohol organized neatly on one side and non-alcoholic drinks on the other.

"On the house?" Mokuba asked. He began padding himself again, this time actually searching. "I don't mind, though..."

"On the house," Otogi confirmed. "I got plates and cups and ice, too. I'm pretty sure we're good."

And it was always that way, even when Yuugi threw parties at their house. If no one mentioned money, it wasn't meant to be brought up. Mokuba recovered quickly enough, made his way to the pizza. He hugged Anzu, opened the first box and took out a slice.

Everyone else marked their territory. Seats were a commodity. Jou took one of the chairs, and a few others decided how they wanted to space themselves out on the floor or vacant beds.

Anzu flashed a smile at Yami as she settled next to him on the floor. She hugged him, and they exchanged hellos before she asked, "So, did you guys decide what you wanted to play?"

"Both," Mokuba said. His voice was muffled because he was still chewing. "Back in New York—" he swallowed. "In New York, we combined the two. It's pretty easy. You spun a bottle and had to ask the person that it landed on truth or dare. If they choose dare, the person who spun the bottle can kiss the person themselves or redirect it to someone else. If they chose truth and can't answer within ten seconds, then the person who spun has to actually dare them to do something. There are other rules, too if you want to make it complicated."

"What are the choices?" Marik seemed rather confused. "Why are we spinning bottles, or...?"

"It's 'Truth or Dare'," Yami said, "and 'Spin the Bottle'."

That didn't seem to make it simpler. The look on Marik's face made it clear that he hadn't heard of either of them.

It was nice to not be the only one. Until Otogi explained the rules to Yami earlier in the week, he hadn't heard of them either. Technically, it wasn't a game at all. There was no winner and no clear way to lose. But he knew that wasn't the point.

"I like Mokuba's idea," Yuugi said. "It's a nice combo."

"Yeah," Jounouchi said. "I don't want to kiss Honda, though. Bleh."

"I'll have you know the ladies love these lips!" Honda shouted back.

"Children," Mai huffed, but broke into a giggle right after. "I'm in, though. I haven't played anything like this in years."

"Can't wait," Anzu beamed at all of them. "I'm really glad everyone could make it. Alright, grab your food before we start."

"Rules," Yuugi chimed in. "No good without rules."

"No exceptions," Mokuba suggested. "You  _have_ to do the dare or answer the question. We're all friends here, so we shouldn't be dicks to each other." He posted himself in the corner next to the food, and Yami felt like he was avoiding Marik. It was a little irritating.

"No illegal dares," Jou suggested pointedly, with a grin.

Honda bristled a bit. "Seriously, though ...I'm not kissing any guys."

_Here we go._

Yami rolled his eyes. Everyone looked to Otogi, the unspoken proctor of this event.

"Um," he said. "I mean, it doesn't have to be anything weird. Like on the cheek or something if you feel weird about it? I mean, I don't care but... Honda, man, if you're really that uncomfortable—"

"I don't want to."

"Then don't," Mokuba snapped. "We do outnumber the girls here. Chances are pretty high. I guess we could re-direct undesirable kisses? Or you can choose a truth. That's why I like smooshing them together. You get options."

"We don't have to play if you don't want to, Honda," Yuugi said. He glanced at Mokuba and sighed.

"Or... we could get more girls, you know," Otogi said, smirking. "Jou, what's your sister doing?"

Anzu snorted.

Jounouchi laughed and shook his head. "...you're shitting me, right?"

"Not really. Is she busy?"

The idea of bringing someone else over just to make the odds of kissing a girl higher was a little more than he could handle. So Yami sat quietly and watched. They cared - they could work it out.

"...I guess I could call her." Jou's eyes were on Honda, thinking.

Yuugi hummed. "...maybe... I could..."

It was hard to resist asking, so Yami didn't. "Got someone to call, Yuugi?"

"...maybe."

Yami wondered if it was a classmate of his. Yuugi did sometimes go to social gatherings for classes; the two of them didn't spend as much time together as they used to. Even Yami knew a few people outside of their little circle - not that he would call any of them friends. People that he only saw when going out to drink weren't quite eligible for that title.

"Oh, I know! I'll call Miho," Anzu said. "She might be free."

"You still talk to her?" Jou asked. Anzu nodded.

"I'm afraid most of my friends are guys," Mai added. "I don't think I can help you there."

Jounouchi shot her a glare, but she ignored it.

"Even with this Miho girl," Mokuba added, "you're still outnumbered 2 to 1. You alright with that?" Finally, he left his corner, and settled into a small space just next to Yami.

"More for me," Mai replied with a smile. Anzu nodded, already on her phone. Honda, appeared content with the addition.

 _Good enough_ , Yami supposed.

"I'll throw on a movie while we wait," Otogi said.

Everyone broke up into smaller groups, plates full of slices and glasses filled.

 _This is quite a predicament._ With Marik on one side and Mokuba on the other, at least the night would be no less than interesting. It would have been much easier if they liked each other. But he wanted to be consistent: Yami brushed his hand against Mokuba's. The smile on his face was enough for Yami to know he appreciated it

"Hey," Anzu announced. "She said she's coming! We just have to sit tight."

Jounouchi and Honda drank with Yuugi, and even Anzu shared a wine cooler with Otogi; Mai stuck with soda. By the time Miho arrived, Marik and Mokuba both finished nearly two of the pizzas.

She was dressed in a cute lavender sweater, and she received a very warm welcome. There was the issue of Yuugi and Yami to explain, though - she'd gone to school with Yuugi apparently. Otogi told a short version of their story that introduced Yami as well as Mai, Marik and Mokuba. In the end she was still confused, and they ended up letting her believe that the two of them were twins.

Messy, but simple.

Miho had heard of (and played, supposedly) both games, so they didn't have to explain much. She liked the idea of modified rules. They started setting up; Anzu produced an empty beer bottle she rinsed out for the game; it'd get more traction on the wooden floor. Otogi produced dice for deciding who went first. The result was a tie between Marik and Jounouchi - they both rolled sixes. The two of them rolled again and Marik came out the winner, with a five to Jou's three.

"Wait—" Mokuba said. "How many rounds of this are we going to do? When are we going to stop?"

For Yami, that was an easy enough question. "Three," he said. It was a well-rounded number. "We've got ten people. That's a long round unless everyone asks questions." He smiled wickedly, because he knew they wouldn't.

Jou was always a wild card, and Otogi was usually up for some fun. Yuugi was always a little more mischievous than people expected. All things considered, they had a pretty good crowd for a game like this. 

"That sounds like a great idea," Miho said. She grinned from ear to ear, and Yami decided then and there that he liked her. "Ready to start?"

And so it began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 1/26/19 - I cut some unnecessary "telling" details here. I cut a LOT of things here. I shaved this entry down by at least 1k words. This was a struggle bus, and I know that the next two chapters are also going to need some elbow grease. It's worthwhile though, I think.
> 
> 5/18/15 - I mostly just cleaned this up a little. The content is pretty much the same. Original commentary below.
> 
> So, yeah, about this...It's technically part one of two, because I didn't want it to be so long. It's connected to the last one, as well, but this and the next one together are going to be a whole story. I'm actually using a random number generator to decide who lands on who in this game. I think I'm a little too invested in this...
> 
> This is prompt #5.


End file.
